Those I've Loved
by fashiongirl97
Summary: 'I wouldn't be who I am today, if not for those I've loved along the way' They didn't kiss in Marseille, nor did they kiss in Serbia or Paris, not even in America. Instead they remained friends, but that is not to say that she didn't fall in love with him. Jenny never left his side after Paris, so now she must watch him marry Stephanie, and he must watch her attempt to move on.
1. The Wedding of Leroy Jethro Gibbs

**Disclaimer **_NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note **_Well . . . I'm back! I've been really busy and this story had been sat half written forever. But here is goes. It's not great, in fact this is the best chapter. But we'll see what you all think. Thanks to all who helped me with the title, and to Left My Heart in Paris who is always so supportive. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p><em><strong>The Wedding of Leroy Jethro Gibbs<strong>_

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><p>'<em>I sneak in and see your friends,<br>And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel,  
>And she is yelling at a bridesmaid,<br>Somewhere back inside a room,  
>Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry'<em>

_-Taylor Swift, Speak Now_

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><p>He'd like the green dress - that was something she was certain of. The way the material was softly fitted from her shoulders to her hips, before it went out into an almost skater style skirt. Hitting about an inch above the knee it left just enough to the imagination, and the scoop neck gave it an air of sophistication. The colour brought out her eyes and made her hair look an even brighter shade of red. It had three quarter sleeves which worked perfectly with a handful of silver bangles around her wrist. Jenny even had the perfect silver and green heels to match.<p>

It would make his jaw drop.

That was why the dress in question was therefore hung up on her wardrobe door - a simple reminder that she could still amaze him. But today it wouldn't matter. Today Leroy Jethro Gibbs' eyes would - should - be on the latest woman to wear white and stand next to him at the top of the aisle. Another red head; with long legs and a perfect figure who'd be smiling like an angel. Another woman who thought that she'd just found the love that everyone wrote about and so craved. Jenny however, she'd be sat in the pews watching as he took yet another woman's hand in marriage.

The dress was pretty, there was no denying that. It was styled like the 1950's and in a pale lemon colour that was perfect for a seasonal wedding. But it wasn't a jaw dropping dress - not for Gibbs anyway. The top was loose, with a sash neckline and made of lemon silk with white large polka dots. It was pulled in around her waist with a matching lemon ribbon that tied behind her back. The skirt then went out into a mass if small pleats. It hit slightly shorter than the green one did, but it looked a lot less sexy in her eyes.

Sighing reflectively at her reflection she moved over to her bed and put on the strappy silver 'ridiculously high' heels. It only been four months since they'd returned from that damned Paris op. she'd counted the days and knew that they'd been gone well over a year. And before Paris there had been London, Serbia, Russia, Postianto and Marseille. In the last three years she'd been home for no longer than two months. They'd been home no longer than two months. Yet somehow he'd apparently managed to string some beautiful red head along to the degree that they were already getting married.

In the last few years, they'd come so close to crossing that line a few times. There had been times, when the mission had nearly consumed her. When she didn't know where she ended and her alias began. It had been Gibbs that shook her out of it; him who plied her with bourbon whilst they drowned their sorrows. There had been times when both of them had grown so close that crossing that invisible line would have been the clear next step. But they didn't. Something, whatever it was, had stopped them. Maybe it was the fear that they'd fall in love, something she never planned on and he feared. Or maybe it was the fear that they'd ruin everything. But undoubtedly, Jenny and Jethro had grown close. Yet it seemed now, like all of that had meant so little to him.

A knock at the door shook her out of her thoughts of self pity. So she stood up and made her way downstairs to the front door. Her heals sending echoes of clip clop around the empty shell of a house. A house, which had once upon a time had held so many memories in every corner of every room. Memories of Christmases spent laughing and smiling, birthdays and throwing wrapping paper all over the room, and those days which for no particular reason stuck with her - once it held those memories. When her life was so different, but now it was just a place where she spent her evenings and the odd day off she was forced to take. A place, which was no longer a home, but now simply the shadow of the place it formerly was.

With a practiced ease the red head opened the larger heavy solid oak front door to reveal Ducky. A man, whom whether he said openly or not was well aware that the event which was about to take place would be hard on her. After all, he had been there, he'd been there when the pair had first met, when the spark had been lit and the first time both of them had put trust in the other. Ducky had silently watched as one, the other, or both of them gradually took down their walls, and on the nights when they broke into a million pieces. In fact, he was more aware than both Jenny and Gibbs when it came to just how deep the feelings of these two agents lay.

"Ducky!" The red head said, a warm smile instantly gracing her face at the sight of the Scotsman. As per usual he was dressed smartly: in a dark grey smart suit, with a white shirt and a deep red bow tie, tied proudly around his neck. He looked handsome, and very dapper in Jenny's eyes. And the warm smile on his face made her feel like she was at home already. Like the day would be manageable even if right then it seemed impossible.

"Hello my dear." He replied in his soft Scottish accent as she let him in. "Are you nearly ready?" He questioned, smirking politely at the sight of her looking almost ready apart from the large curlers firmly placed in her hair.

"I've just got to take these out, I won't be too long" she stated, whilst jogging upstairs. Yet, as soon as she was alone she felt herself drop again at the thought of the day. Slowly she removed the curlers to reveal wavy red hair. And with a touch of red lipstick she was done. She took a deep breath and grabbed her bag before looking in the mirror. She should - technically - be happy that her best friend was getting married and - apparently - in love. But instead Jenny found herself wishing the day away, wishing that instead she could just go to another place where things were simpler.

Remembering that Ducky was downstairs she told herself to get it together and walked down the stairs. The Scotsman emerged from the rarely used living room at the sound of her arrival. "You look wonderful Jennifer." the doctor said and Jenny smiled at him thankfully. And it was true, she did look amazing, whether she had meant to or not Jenny would make her partners jaw drop, along with the jaws of their new agent Stan Burley. Stan had been on the team of another agent, however that agent had retired and so he'd been moved to Gibbs' team and partnered up with William Decker.

"Thanks Ducky." She said, softly looking down at her fingernails painted in pearl white to match her toes. "Are you ready?" Jenny asked him, already wanting to get the day over and done with so that she could come back home and curl up in bed. So that she could shove on one of those films that Gibbs had always hated and try to stop thinking about her.

But for now, it was time to stop worrying about herself, and at least look as though she was happy for the man who had stood by her side through everything.

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><p>Strangely enough, considering the fact that it was Gibbs' fourth wedding, the ceremony was held in a church. But in the same way that it was strange, it was also expected, because even though Jenny had never really focused on the fact, Gibbs was actually a religious man. He didn't preach or openly pray. But maybe it comes with the job; it helps sometimes to believe there is something or someone watching over us after all. Maybe it was the longing to hope that those that we lose along the way do in fact, go to a better place. That they don't just end up in the ground – six feet under. However, whatever his reasoning behind it, it must have been a reasonably strong belief.<p>

So that was why, on a day which was considerably warmer than it was generally expected to be, she was stuck inside a freezing cold church in a dress which was certainly not built for warmth. As she sat there, though, she realised that the church had been Stephanie's choice. It wasn't as ostentatious as Jenny assumed his wedding to Diane had been but, at the same time, neither was it the rustic comfort that Gibbs would have wanted. The church was of average size with substantial room for the 100 or so people that had been invited.

The inside of the church was an almost flesh coloured stone that she would hazard a guess resembled the same texture as sandstone - or would that make it too soft? Inside was perfectly decorated with carvings that reminded her of those minute details you'd imagine when listening to a fairy tale being told to you as a child. When your eyes were closed and you were curled up in bed, blissfully resting in that state between consciousness and slumber, when you're imagination was free to run wild. Pews lined the large space in two rows. Dark varnished wood that was incredibly uncomfortable to sit on. Prayer cushions - each on embroidered with a different pattern in rich reds and gold's and greens - sat at her feet. The colours slightly faded and if you looked closely the edges they were slightly tattered and worn from use.

Beside of her was Ducky, both of them sat on the front row, along with the Director Tom Marrow. They were representing Gibbs' family. She didn't know much about his blood relatives, only that his mother had died and his father was not around. Somewhere behind them were the other NCIS agents who had been classed as close enough to attend; Stan Burley, William Decker, and the lab tech. The other side of the church represented Stephanie's family, who had seeped across into Gibbs' scarcely filled side too. All dressed in pastels a little sickly for Jenny's liking and smiling so brightly. Across from Jenny, on the front row of the opposite side, sat a woman in a pale lilac, her hair bright red, and looking like she was about to cry. From the hair colour, the dress and the matching hat, the special agent assumed she must be Stephanie's mother. Jenny had to resist the urge to scoff at the cliché mother-of-the-bride attitude.

It wasn't that she didn't like Stephanie, in fact if she was honest out of all of Gibbs' girlfriends and wives that she had met, Stephanie was definitely the best by far. She was lovely, and caring, but the problem was, that Jenny saw her as a little naïve. Maybe that was a prejudiced view, but if she was honest, Stephanie was blindsided by love. So much so that she couldn't see that her soon to be husband, did not feel the same. She was a replacement for Shannon, and if Jenny was honest with herself, the fear of being the same was the thing that had always stopped her from crossing the line.

"My dear, I think it's about to start." Said Ducky, breaking her thoughts and from the tone of his voice, the red headed agent knew very well, that his impression of the whole fiasco was pretty much along the same lines as hers. And then, the music began to play, and all she could think was that this was that woman's death march into a marriage that was almost guaranteed to fail.

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><p>Her dress was something out of a fairytale. Strapless, white, with a belt of silver around her waist, pulling her in before it went out into a princess skirt. It wasn't massive, but it was a lot bigger than Jenny would have chosen for herself. The bride's hair was half up half down, and lightly curled. She looked beautiful, even a slightly bitter Jenny could not deny the woman that complementary thought. But as she walked up to aisle towards her fiancé, Jenny felt her heart break ever so slightly. Jethro was stood there, looking just as he always did. In a tux, with his tie and shoes polished, hair freshly cut into his classic marine style - he looked every bit as dashing as she had known he would.<p>

He smiled when she walked up to him.

Looked at her lovingly through the whole of the ceremony.

And said the vows like someone who was saying them for the fourth time.

And when they said 'kiss the bride' he did so, and Jenny discretely looked down. Whilst Duck slipped his hand into hers and softly squeezed it, knowing how much this would be hurting her. She and Jethro had been married as their cover, but it hadn't all been pretence – anyone could see that a mile off. They'd put their lives in the hands of the other, and that was something that could only be convincingly achieved when there was a certain degree of trust being held.

And when they parted everyone clapped, even Jenny. As bittersweet as the moment was, she had promised herself that she would not bitter. So she clapped and smiled back when Stephanie's eyes passed over her. But Jethro didn't look at anyone else, instead he just looked in a daze as he realised that he'd made yet another woman the latest in an ever growing list of Mrs L. J. Gibbs'.

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><p>It was when they had all gathered outside of the church. Watching as the bride and groom walked down the narrow weathered path, under a shower of rose petals and pale pink or white confetti, that Gibbs finally caught his partner's eye from across the crowd. There she stood, the sun catching her auburn hair and making it look ablaze with even brighter colours. Her skin so pale in colour and softly dappled with a scattering of freckles brought out by the warm weather. And then there were those eyes, emerald sparkling slightly more precious than any gem. Sparkling just a little because even though she knew how this union would end, she'd realised she was nothing more than selfish if she didn't try to be happy for him.<p>

She watched as he saw her, as that careful analysing gaze and those stunning cobalt eyes fell upon her. He saw how beautiful she looked - even if she wasn't wearing the green dress - and how there was a slight longing in her eyes for him to be careful. As Jenny slowly blinked and smiled at him, he just nodded, not breaking eye contact once. Because it was their silent agreement that no matter what happened, that no matter how this marriage ended, they'd - try at least - to never let anything get in the way of their friendship. Because to him that meant a hundred times more than any other relationship ever would do.

And as quickly as they'd told each other what they needed to say, it was over. Gibbs was back smiling at his wife, and Jenny was left trying to figure out just where she stood now. Because things were about to change; there would be no more late night takeout meals in his basement, sanding the boat and drinking more bourbon than was advisable in one night. There would be no more tickle fights or innuendos when they were alone. And it wasn't that she wasn't pleased for him, because she was, Jenny was just a little heartbroken that she seemed to view him in a different way to how he viewed her.

But what the red headed field agent, with a temper as strong as her hair would suggest, had not realised was that as he had stood there saying his vows, he'd realised something. This marriage unlike his others wasn't to try and find a replacement for Shannon. This one was to try and find a replacement for the woman he had let slip through his fingers: Jenny Shepard.

However, now he slid into the back of their chauffer driven, vintage cream 1938 Rolls Royce Phantom limousine. With a tan brown leather bench seat in the back, decorated with stitching running vertically down towards the carpet of darker brown and all of the trimmings were in polished silver. In the middle an adaptation had been made and there proudly sat a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, its bright orange label just visible inside of the cooler. Either side of it was a crystal cut champagne glass, guarding the bottle.

Stephanie slid in a first, a massive smile on her face, whilst Gibbs slid in behind her once her dress was completely in and he was sure that he hadn't stepped on it at all. He sat in the back seat and smiled at her as she leant forward and took the glasses waiting for him to get the bottle and open it. And as the car drove away - the long way - to the reception, the last thing they all saw was the car driving off with as the sound of that iconic 'pop!' as the champagne was opened.

As the car drove away the wedding party began to divide off as they all headed to their cars so that they could make their way to the reception. It was being paid for by Stephanie's family who had all clubbed together to give her the wedding she had always dreamed of. That was why it was being held at a historic boutique hotel in the city: the Topaz hotel.

Jenny, Ducky, William Decker and Tom Marrow began to walk toward the car park, and Stan Burly ran up to them after being left behind. He had a cheeky childishly smug grin on his face as he watched one of Stephanie's friends from work walk away. A blonde, with long legs, who was wearing a pastel blue dress, and with whom he had been flirting with throughout the entirety of the ceremony. "Oh I _love_ weddings!" he said, his grin ever growing as he got in pace with Jenny. "Don't you red? They're full of . . . love and happiness."

Jenny turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow at his comment, whilst glaring at him because of his calling her by his nickname for her; 'red'. A name she had strictly told him that he could not, under any circumstances, call her by. So for that comment, and his trying to get off with one of the brides best friends, she lifted up her hand and head-slapped him in perfect Gibbs imitation style. As soon as she had done it she instantly felt a little better, but his hand was on the back of his head, rubbing it ever so slightly whilst pouting like a little child at being hit. "Ouch! Shepard that really hurt!" He claimed, failing to make her feel bad about her actions but instead make her smirk.

"It was only what Gibbs would have done if he were here." She stated, as they approached their cars in the car park. She headed with Ducky to his silver Morgan, the car that was originally going to be used as a wedding car until Stephanie had fallen in love with the Rolls Royce. Ducky went around to the driver's side whilst the others began to head off to their cars – Stan still moaning.

"Shut up Agent Burley, you deserved it!" They heard Tom Marrow say in his directors voice as he got into the black town car with his security, and as the door closed, they all broke down into hysterics whilst the agent in question stood there looking like a child who had just found out that Santa didn't exist. And that was what made Jenny's day, but it was also what made her realise that maybe she could get through the rest of the day, because if she had her friends around her then that would mean that she didn't actually have to acknowledge Gibbs. He could have his day with his new wife, and she could stay with the lads as long as she had to, and then disappear off into the night.

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><p>The reception was just as classic as Jenny had imagined that it would be. The events room was beautiful, with white walls, each one with an engraved border decorated in a cross culture theme; English heritage mixed with the French chateaux look. The flooring was a dark stained wood, buffed to the extent that you could see your face in it – just for the occasion. The outside wall was broken up by two sets of French doors which opened out onto a patio, framed with white pillars and steps which lead down into a large garden. A garden which could be anywhere in the world, but would not be expected in the centre of a large city.<p>

At one end of the room there was the long head table. It seated Gibbs and his wife, and mainly Stephanie's family; her parents, sister and bridesmaids. But Gibbs' family was simply represented by Ducky. He'd wanted Jenny there, but Stephanie hadn't been too pleased by the idea. Although she was well aware of the fact that they were just friends, in essence they had been married. They'd spent years hiding and playing the part of a couple. Having her on the table would be like having Diane or Ginger on the table; another ex-wife. Someone she would have to contend with. But that was all the better for the field agent. That meant she could sit on the table with Fornell, Stan, Will, Director Marrow and a few others.

The tables were covered in thick white table cloths which matched the white chair covers which had a wide ribbon tied around them in the same colour as the bridesmaids dressed. Jenny sat there, watching everyone after the meal and the speeches had been done with. Whilst they danced and flirted, and everyone else did the same. The room was boiling, and everything hurt too much in that moment. So she stood up and made her way to the closest set of doors and excited out onto the stone patio.

Outside the air had cooled down as evening fell on the city, and as the cold air hit her flushed skin, small goose bumps began to spread across her pale skin, whilst her face began to feel even warmer. Slowly, Jenny walked over to the barrier of stone and placed her hands down on the cold before taking a deep breath and holding it in for a while. Inside she was suffocating, the people all so happy and naïve, thinking that the marriage that had just taken place would last. And maybe she was bitter, and selfish, and she hated herself for being that way.

But at some point Jenny was pretty sure she had fallen in love with Gibbs, and it hurt, because part of her had thought that he felt something more for her. But he didn't _she'd_ been the naïve one, the one who had done the one thing she swore she'd never do. She'd let a man worm his way into her heart. And the stupid thing was that she had been blind to it.

Walking over to the steps, her heeled sandals clip clopped on the stones beneath her feet - the sound slightly audible over the muffled music that escaped the events room behind of her. The sound of soppy love songs that people were slow dancing to. Songs about a love that would last a lifetime - and something about everything being yellow. She wasn't even sure; in fact she'd been doing everything in her power not to listen since she'd been the only one at the table. Ducky had forced her to dance for a while, and she'd fooled about with Stan as she tried to dance with him, keeping his hand above her ass. She'd spoken to Marrow, and laughed with Fornell about the fact that he was dating Diane – a woman who had a serious issue with Jenny.

But now she was away from them all she felt a wave of relief. Slowly and cautiously she made her way down the path. Careful not to get her stiletto style heel caught in one of the gaps between the paving slabs underfoot. The heels gave a soft clip clopping sound, which as she moved away from the building became even more and more distinct as the music faded. The red head encountered another step and she stopped, sitting down on it and wrapping her arms around herself. The floor wasn't too cold after a day of the sun on it. But it was a shock to her body, yet a relief too. It gave her something else to think about.

Jenny's eyes scanned over the gardens, taking in the sight of the grass and trees, all ever so slightly dulled by the fading lights. She listened to the sound of the animals waking up, and falling asleep, as the trees rustled because the wind was blowing through them. Then her eyes made their way up to the sky, looking at the stars twinkling softly above. Her eyes subconsciously looked for the brightest star, and she thought back to the one that had lead Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem all those years ago. And as she thought about it, she wondered whether one day a bright star would lead her to someone who she could at least try and love a little bit.

But that was all dreams, things that she wanted and wished and hoped for. But in all honesty no longer believed in. She closed her eyes and felt the cold air brush against her skin and goose bumps raise. "You'll catch your death out here Jenny." She heard a voice say behind her. And the goose bumps rose again, although this time it was nothing to do with the cold. It was the voice talking, a voice she had spent ages listening to and laughing with. And whose wedding she was currently at. Someone, she had spent the entire day attempting to avoid.

"I could have caught my death any day in Europe." She replied. Although neither of them really spoke about what had happened when they were undercover, it still haunted them. Most people would look and think that it had just passed them by, like it was any other day. But that was how they wanted people to think. The truth was that it had scared them irrevocably. They had been left scarred in a way that nothing would ever quite manage to fix.

Gibbs walked down the path so that he was closer to him and shrugged off his suit jacket. She didn't know what he was doing until she felt the warmth of his jacket over her shoulders. Her arms touched the lapels and pulled it closer around her shivering body-

-She hadn't even realised that she was shivering.

As soon as she felt it around her she knew that it shouldn't be there. This was the kind of thing he should be doing to his wife not his partner. However the fact that she was surrounded, now, by the oh so familiar and comforting smell of coffee, bourbon and saw dust mellowed her. But it didn't stop her knowing it was wrong, even if it did feel good. "Shouldn't you be wrapping your jacket around your wife Jethro?" She said, desperately trying to keep any hint of bitterness from her voice.

"Steph won't mind Jenny, she knows how much you mean to me."

And those words hit her like a punch to the stomach. And in that moment, as she turned to look at the silver haired man beside her; and she memorised every feature. Every line of a day gone by, the things those bright cobalt eyes had seen. The hair that she had always loved, and never changed. Every part of his face she remembered, and she told herself that was what her bitterness could lose her. Stephanie was obviously willing to accept her presence, and Jenny decided that it was time to grow up. Because Jethro loved his wife, and she was being nothing short of childish.

"I want you to be happy Jethro." She said, with honesty. And he knew she meant it, the stars reflected in her eyes, and as she smiled he was reminded as he always was that he didn't want to lose her.

"I'm happy Jen." He said, not entirely true whether he was or not.

"Then so am I." And then Gibbs stood up, and left. But before he did she heard a chink as a glass touched the stone she was sat on. When she was sure he was gone, she looked down beside of her and smiled in thanks to the man who had walked away. Because there; was a glass of bourbon. A drink that tied them to their past in Paris, and that would tie them to their future whatever that may end up being.

Her long slender finger wrapped around the glass, and took a sniff of the whiskey before placing the glass to her lipstick clad lips. And as the burning liquid went down her thought she decided it was her time to leave. She'd said her piece and now Jenny Shepard had to get on with her life-

-or try at least.

Her silver heels clip clopped along the path. Leaving behind a lip stick stained tumbler, a perfume infused jacket, and a bittersweet memory that would forever be incomplete.

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><p><em>Reviews welcomed!<em>


	2. Being the Boss

**Disclaimer **_NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note**_ Thanks for all of the support! It means a lot. The next couple of chapters JEnny acts a little weirdly, but because of the change she is confused. I'm not too happy with them but fingers crossed it will get better. So just bare with me please!_

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><p><em><strong>Being the Boss<strong>_

'_Monday morning heading back to work,  
>Stuck in traffic going slow, Nothing on the radio,<br>I don't wanna be another chore to check off on your list,  
>Of things you gotta do and placed that you gotta go'<br>-Lady Antebellum, Friday Night_

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><p>It was Monday.<p>

The first day at work without Gibbs, and her first day of being in charge of kindergarten – joy!

Jenny sighed and walked into the empty room. Outside the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon, and the clock had only just struck 0630. Yet there she was, in the abandoned bullpen, too much like her partner and mentor in her work ethic to be good to anyone's health. The windows and skylight barely lit up the room – only allowing the dull grey early morning light to splash un-satisfyingly into the room. The timer on the lights wasn't due to switch them on for a good hour yet. So for now, she would have to cope with the small artificial light that her desk lamp provided.

The red head dumped her unattractive, black, NCIS standard issue backpack carelessly down onto the ground before leaning over and flicking on the small switch on the base of her lamp to turn it on – the little use it did. Jenny skilfully un-holstered her firearm and badge from the waist of her olive coloured skinny jeans and placed it into the draw of her desk. The red head then tucked her white wrap blouse back into her jeans and sat down. Whilst she waited for her computer to log in, she played with the end of her fishtail plain absentmindedly. Her mind still occupied by the events of Gibbs wedding. The way he had danced, and she'd felt so pushed to one side. She wanted him to be happy, and that was the truth. She hoped to God that his honeymoon would go well. She hoped that his marriage – unlike the others – would for once last. After all, Stephanie was the best of what Jenny considered to be a bad bunch.

Meanwhile, her feet - clad in heeled tan brown brogues - tapped away to the beat of a song she faintly remembered hearing on the radio on the way over. As she did so, the red head continued to wait, cursing NCIS for not updating their prehistoric computer system. But her mind wasn't on the job, not today. Not when this was the beginning of a new era for her. Even when the Federal badge background appeared on her computer, she didn't do anything. Instead the agent just stared off into another world.

_Ping!_

The sound of an email notification brought her out of her daze, and she softly shook her head, trying to get herself back on topic. And stop her rambling thoughts from climbing a mountain that she was nowhere near ready to climb just yet. So, she moved her curser over and clicked on the new email. But it was just the NCIS news bulletin. And as she carelessly scrolled down the page, not even paying attention to the text informing her of how many offenders they'd caught, or what opps had been a success, and who was leaving.

_CONGRATULATIONS are in order to Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs on his marriage which took place this weekend. We all hope that _this one _works out for you. And enjoy you're honeymoon!_

If she had been reading it out loud, the words would have stuck in her throat. And although it was bittersweet, and she was pretty sure she had the right to feel that way, there was a sense of guilt about it. She'd spent the whole of his wedding wishing that she was somewhere else, that he wasn't getting married. Jealousy had corrupted her, and she'd turned into a woman that day, who had been no better than Diane. So, mentally head slapping herself in a way she knew her partner would be proud of, she closed the window.

Standing up, she walked over to his desk, took a deep breath and told herself to get on with work. Once she did that she was pretty sure that she would be okay. After all, the way she got through everything was by burying herself under work – just as she had done when her father died all those years ago. Jenny found his stack of paperwork – a considerably larger stack that she had expected – and took it over to her desk.

He was meant to have caught up on it all before he left. '_Meant' being the key word_. Jethro never did his paperwork unless he was faced with the ultimatum of paperwork Vs the FBI, or when he was married to Diane; paperwork would always beat going home. Which was generally why he let it rack up until he had Marrow breathing down his neck, and it seemed even that had not worked this time. So Jenny dumped it on her desk and got ready to wade through the mess.

She just hoped to God that someone would bring her coffee! Preferably Ducky as he actually knew her order, unlike Stan who kept handing her some sickly, caramel, froth that tasted like washing up liquid. But she hadn't had the heart to tell him yet. Having said that, if he brought her it today she may well just spit it out all over him.

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><p>Two hours later the read head cast the piercing green eyes over the top of the divider to see that he team mates had decided that they were actually going to turn up to work. Something she had doubted considerably when they were over an hour late. As she looked up she saw that whilst they weren't still in the clothes they had worn to the wedding – which she would not have been surprised to find them to be – they were, however, looking extremely hung-over. And the replacement team leader had to hide the smirk that appeared on her face at the sight of the black bags under their eyes.<p>

"Morning." They both grumbled as they made their way over to their desks. William Decker placed a cup of coffee onto her desk as he did so, winking discretely as he did so. Simply because he knew what he order was, and had obviously stepped in front of Stan and got her coffee. His intuition telling him that after the wedding she would more likely than not be in a bad mood and a wrong coffee order may just push her off of the edge. It was something that she was more than a little thankful for.

"We've not got a case." She stated, after passing a grateful glance over to Decker for the coffee. "So get your paperwork done and I'll take it up to Marrows when I get Gibbs' done."

They both groaned, before turning their computers on and beginning to try and look like they were working. Although she knew for a fact that Stan was playing Tetris as for the first moment he had completely forgotten that his volume was not turned down on his computer. That had resulted in the game-like music filling the room.

As they got one with their work, her eyes fell on the vacant desk next to her. And part of her felt sentimental, but work was working, so she turned back to the paperwork and completed another case report. Because the work was officially Gibbs' she could not sign it, however after working with him so long she had learnt to forge his signature perfectly. Marrow had long since realised that the reports were not being done by Gibbs, however they were getting done which was a significant change. So he turned a blind eye to it.

* * *

><p>Jenny placed her pen down on the desk, it was lunch time, and Stan and Will had left a good half hour ago. She didn't expect them back for another hour, Gibbs wasn't there to scare them so they were making the most of it – and no one blamed them. Out of all of the teams at NCIS, Gibbs' was the hardest working. They had the most cases, the fasted clean up rate, they had the longest days and were on rota more weekends than any other. So the fact that for the time whilst their boss was on honeymoon they were relaxing – no one really minded.<p>

Standing up, she picked the empty coffee cup up and tossed it into the bin. Then she decided to go and see Ducky. It seemed like with the mass of cases they had had on the lead up to the wedding, she hadn't seen much of him. Then at the weekend she had basically done her best to avoid everyone. So she made her way down to autopsy.

It was ironic really, when she had first joined NCIS, it had been the place that she avoided like the plague. The thought of the coolness, the sterile smell and stainless steel tabled filling her with nothing less than dread. And yet now, she was heading to that place for solace, it had become a place of comfort and emotional warmth. Where she could leave behind all the titles she held. She wasn't viewed as an Agent, she wasn't known for being the Cornel's Daughter, or emotionally scarred red head. Instead she was just Jenny. Not Jen, the woman who was falling in love with her partner and mentor, or Jennifer, the lady corrupted by a vendetta.

The door opened with a _Swish _of the airlock loosening, and the cold air hit her forearms making the hairs stand up. Her captivating green eyes took in the bright room, and she smiled at the sight of empty tables meaning that Ducky had not 'visitors' that she could see. "Duck?" She said softly, as she walked further in.

"Coming my dear." A muffled voice replied as he exited the store room. His eyes lit up at the sight of her and he smiled softly. He was one of the closest things that she had to family, and since they'd started the mass undercover operation that spanned the majority of Europe, he'd been like a father to her. And even though she didn't want to exactly talk to him about what was going on in her head and heart – she wasn't even sure herself what she felt. But just being in his company would be everything that she needed. "Now what can I do for you?"

"Can we put the kettle on Ducky? I need a break from Gibbs' paperwork before I go mad." She stated, smiling lightly.

"I was just thinking that I'd enjoy some Mr Earl, take a seat my dear." And she did, her eye following as she emptied some loose tea leaves into the strainer and poring boiling water in. They were silent whilst he made the tea; then again it was almost their ritual to be so. She watched him make it expertly, the drink that she had never drank before meeting Ducky. Yet now she even had some at home, and it was her drink of choice whenever she felt down.

Soon there was a tea cup in front of her, the white china placed on a thin saucer. "Thank you." She said, wrapping her fingers around the warmth and watching as the steam rose in swirls above.

"Are you alright my dear?" He asked, concerned that she seemed a million to be away as she sat opposite him in the cold room.

"Yeah . . . yes Ducky I'm fine. I guess I'm just adapting."

"To the change between you and Jethro." It wasn't a question, but a statement. To the man who had watched them grow both in and before Europe, seeing one of them break away from the partnership in that way – he could understand just why she was upset. He'd never judge.

"I'm stupid I know . . . it's just . . . I've never loved anyone Ducky, I have no family but you guys. And even if it only was for our covers, he was my husband – we were married. And I guess . . . oh I don't know Ducky. It's just weird I suppose."

He leant over and took her hand, feeling like he was comforting the daughter that he had never had. "It's not stupid my dear – by no means. If things were the other way around, if you were getting married then he'd feel the same. Even if he didn't show it."

Jenny smiled at him, her eyes sparkling ever so slightly. "Thank you." She said, looking down, and drinking the remainder of her tea. They remained in silence until all that was left in both of their cups were small grains of tea that had snuck through the thin wire mesh of the tea strainer. She then smiled at him, and knew she had to go. "I still have a mound of Jethro's paperwork to get through." She stated.

"I'll see you again soon my dear." And with that she left.

Jenny walked out into the hall way, and sighed, it was time to get back to work. So she took the stairs and made her way up into the bullpen. But when she got to her desk she stopped dead at the second pile of paperwork, double the size of the first, which was sat on her desk. "What is that?!" She asked accusingly at the two guilty looking agents who had finally returned to their desks.

"Well if you're doing Gibbs' paperwork, then you may as well do it all." William Decker said, as though it were the simplest thing ever.

"Yeah, Gibbs' not yours!" She exclaimed as she sat down behind of her desk.

"That is Gibbs!" Stan said, completely and utterly unable to contain the laughter that was threatening to spill. Jenny looked doubtingly at the files and picked it up, and to her dismay he wasn't lying. She picked up another file, and another, and another – they were all Gibbs'. "Where on earth did you get all this from?!"

"His bottom draw." Decker said, smirking at the red head. "You didn't think that the stuff on his desk was all of it, did you?"

Jenny simply groaned and fell back into her chair. "How on earth does he get away with this?!" But no one answered, they were all simply shocked that she had just added it to the pile, and began to get on with the job. But the truth was they neither of them knew either. Somehow Gibbs just managed to get away with it. Stan and Will passed a look of raised eyebrows between one another and got on.

* * *

><p>In the end it took Jenny until Thursday afternoon for her to finish the stack of Gibbs' paperwork. But that time, Stan and Will had already left their piles on the edge of the red heads desk so that she could take it all up in one go. So they had spent the remainder of the week supposedly working through cold cases. Although having said that, it had ended up taking them a whole day just to decide on one to focus on, and another to go collect all the evidence. So by the time Thursday came around, they had done pretty much nothing bar go over whiteness statements.<p>

But in all honesty, she couldn't moan at them. Sure they messed about even when Gibbs was in the office, but when it came down to it their hearts were in the right places. When they got a case they cared, they'd lay down their lives for another without even giving a second thought. So although they were winding her up, unless they got a case she would turn a blind eye.

It was dark outside, the trees blowing ever so slightly in the breeze. The bright green leaves rustling against one another. The final signature had been forged and the boys had left to go home for the evening. She knew that Tom Marrow was still up in his office, the SecNav had only just left and his assistant was yet to be dismissed.

The red head leant forward and placed her chin onto her palms. She'd done true to her thoughts and buried herself in work. Not just doing her partners case reports and other paperwork, but also working with Stan and Will on the odd occasion that they actually did some work. So now, after four days it was beginning to take its toll. The agent was shattered, and more than a little fed up.

Standing up, she decided that she would take the files up the director, then go home and curl up in bed whilst waiting for sleep to capture her and let her relax in its arms. So, she picked up the large pile of brown NCIS 'Confidential' marked files, and walked up the stairs, the heels on her black t-bar shoes clip clopping on the small metal rim of steps. Her long legs were clad in black leggings, and she wore a dark teal blue blouse that was made with multiple layers of thin material, and a black leather collar. Her hair was left naturally in its curls, and Jenny wore minimal makeup – just mascara and her signature red lipstick.

And although from the outside she looked normal, she really was emotionally exhausted as well as physically. As she walked into the outer office, she saw that Marrow's secretary was on the phone to her husband whilst she packed away her things. Jenny caught her eye and smiled, showing her the files. And the woman just nodded, signalling her to go in as she continued on with her telephone conversation.

Jenny's pale hands opened the cold metal door, and she walked in, smiling as she saw Tom look up from his paperwork and over to her. He caught sight of the large pile of files in her hands, and he simply laughed. "I was wondering when I'd finally get that mound." And Jenny just laughed, making her way over to the solid wooden desk and placing the files down. When the red head was relieved of the weight she heaved a sigh. "I'd say thank you, but I think that is my weekend gone." He groaned softly.

"Well I apologise." The red head replied, a small smile on her face. "I think I'm the only one who didn't know the extent to the amount he had stashed away."

"I prefer ignorance. It's less of a pain in my butt." He said, and she smirked back at the Director. "Take a seat." He said, and she did so. Both of them lived for their work. They loved the job, but also were well aware of the toll it could take on your personal life. And so, at the chances they got, both were under no illusion that there weren't times when you should take a break.

The Director stood up, and walked over to the drinks cabinet, and poured them both a glass of whiskey from the cut crystal decanter that was at home in the office. "I know it's not that pain stripper that Gibbs has gotten you drinking, but it's not half bad." He stated as he passed her the crystal cut glass.

"Thanks." She said, taking a sip of the amber liquid. "Jack Daniels." Jenny stated, a small smirk passing over her face. "My father used to have this in his study; I'd drink it when he was away. I guess I have always had expensive taste."

"My father was a Brandy man." Tom said, making a face of disgust at the thought of it. "I nicked at bottle one night after a fight, and a few of us got smashed on it – never had a worse hang over in my life!" And they both laughed, it wasn't often you got to hear about an agent's life before they had first walked into the Agency. Most of them had friends in the office, but after they left that was it. Many of the agents had been in the forces prior to joining, so everyone knew that more often than not you avoided the mention of before. Everyone had parts of themselves they preferred to keep hidden from prying eyes.

"Brandy was as bad as swearing in my house." Jenny laughed, before taking another sip of the whiskey that was in her hand. A drink that held so many memories, in fact it was drinks which reminded her of those she had lost as oppose to places. As she looking around the room, she caught sight of the few pictures that he had up. In most of them he looked a lot younger, there were picture of him with other agents – ones she guessed he had worked in close quarters with, and pictured from parties. It was almost as though he was trying to cling on the people that he had met on his way up to the top.

"The job vacancy is still open Jenny." He said, and she looked away like the words had been fire to scald her with. Near the end of their undercover operation, Marrow had rung her with the offer of her own team, and after a week of consideration she'd said no. Deciding that she had family in Gibbs, and respected him too much to just up and leave.

"No." She said, softly before downing the last of her whiskey. Even if he had someone else now, he was still family. He was still the one who had turned her from the revenge fuelled, bitter child she had been into the woman who sat in her place.

"I don't know when the opportunity will arise again." He said, and it wasn't that he wanted Gibbs to lose her. It was the fact that Jenny was a damn good agent – one of the best – and he didn't want her to look back years from now, and resent the fact that she had chosen to stay. If she took the job then in less than a decade she would be sat in his seat. But he knew it was her choice, and by her saying no, it was a sign of strength, and something that he respected immensely.

"It's not what I want. Not anymore." And that was the truth. When she'd joined NCIS, it was the opportunity she would have loved. But back then she could never have even imagined that a job would turn into something that she cherished as much as she did. The job had given her something that was almost family now.

He looked at her, and he smiled softly. "Most people would jump at the chance Jenny."

"I guess I'm not most people." She said a small smirk on her face. _Most people would have done something about the fact they were falling in love with their partner. _

"You're certainly not Jenny." Tom said, noticing that she seemed a little broken. But he decided to put it down to Europe. After all, when you were so deeply undercover for such a long period of time, you didn't come back without any scars. And some would take a lot longer than a physical one to heal.

"I should go." She said standing up, and flashing him a smile. "Have fun with the paperwork."

"I'm sure it will be thrilling." They both laughed, and Jenny exited the office. It was nice to know that someone cared.

Deciding she needed sleep, the red head made her way down to her desk, grabbed her bag and keys, and looked around the dark bull pen. It was like the workings of a clock had stopped. Only a few agents were still in, and even they were beginning to pack away. Without the ever present Gibbs, it felt empty. So, sighing softly, she flicked the switch on her desk light and made her way towards the stairs. And Jenny made her way out of the building, it was time to relax – she deserved it after all.

* * *

><p>It was just over a week later, on the Friday, that it dawned on her that Jethro was back. She hadn't realised until she was sat in her car ready to head home. They'd had a case since Monday – the double murder of two Marines who turned out to be best mates. Something they hadn't found out until half way through the case. But it turned out that one of them was dying, and the other had agreed to help him die. But after the other had gone, he couldn't bear to continue himself. The fact that both bodies were found miles apart, and that the friendship had begun in high school meant that it was hard to figure out.<p>

But that morning Jenny had told both of the victims' parents and the case was closed. Now all the paperwork sat on Marrows desk and they were all heading out for drinks. It was a case that had touched them all, and as Jenny looked around the empty car park from the inside of her own car, she realised how much she respected both of the Marines. They obviously had a friendship stronger than most could ever imagine having.

It brought back memories from when she was younger. The redhead hadn't been popular in high school. Having a father who was a Cornel in the army meant that you didn't stay in one place long enough to make strong friendships. Generally she would spend her time in the library studying. But she'd had one friend, a friend who had been the only one to keep in touch through all of the years and every move she made.

But that friendship had become hard now. He was in the Marines and barely ever in the states, and when he was he was spending the time with his wife and their adoptive children. The last time he had been home she was undercover. She didn't know when she'd see him again – but he was the closest thing she had had to a best friend throughout most of her childhood and teenage years.

The red head sighed and put the keys in the engine before leaving the concrete car park that played host to NCIS cars. And as she did so, her thoughts went to Gibbs. She'd almost managed to stop sinking in self pity since they had a case, but now she was back where she had begun. Jenny drove, not even thinking about where. And before she even realised anything, she was pulled up opposite Gibbs' house.

Usually she'd be there most nights, and whenever she pulled up his basement light would be on – the only dull light from the otherwise dead house. But that wasn't the case that night. As she looked over towards the house in the evening darkness she saw that his basement lights were off, but instead his lounge light was on and so was his bedroom light. And up there, in his room she could see the silhouette of two people walking around.

They weren't arguing – there movements were too fluid for that. Instead they were obviously just unpacking. But when they merged into one, she looked away, and back at her own eyes in the rear view mirror. That was when she changed, mentally. Jenny head slapped her self and realised what she was becoming. He was happy, and surely that should be enough for her? She should be able to be happy for him?

In that moment Jenny stopped feeling sorry for herself, and left her heart there with him. So turning the key once more, she headed off home to dress to kill. This was the end of her feeling sorry for herself. From now on, if she couldn't have him, then she would simply let him see what he was missing out on.

* * *

><p>An hour later Jenny Shepard walked into the bar that was just outside the Navy base. It was where they always went, often frequented by marines, and the sort of place that was comfortable for whatever you wanted. She'd gotten changed, out of the work clothes she'd been wearing, and was now dressed to pull – whilst remaining teasing.<p>

As she walked in, she knew all eyes were on her – that was the idea after all. She wore a pair of stone was super skinny ripped jeans. The tears in the fabric went all the way up to just below her ass and left little to the imagination as they hugged her perfectly. Jenny had grabbed an old baggy white t-shirt which hung off one shoulder, giving a perfect view of her bra strap. On her feet she had bright red Anema style, platforms, with a metallic heel. Her makeup was light except for her signature red lips. The long red locks were swept messily up into a bun, showing off the diamonds in her ears. And finishing off with a handful of silver bangles around her wrists.

She spotted Stan and Will instantly, and they ordered her a drink. From the way their jaws were currently on the ground, she knew her outfit was doing what it was intended to do so. And as she walked over, she couldn't help but smirk. "Jeez!" Said Will, his collar suddenly feeling constricting.

"Fancy getting outta here Shep?" Stan asked a smirk on his face as he winked.

"Only in your dreams Burley." Jenny replied, smirking wildly. She was in the bar to pull, and her choices were good. Jenny also knew that come Monday morning one of the two agents would say something and it would not be long before Gibbs found out – and even if she didn't pull, she could make it seem like she had.

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><p><em>Review? Sorry if you don't like it <em>


	3. You Chose This

**Disclaimer** _I don't own NCIS_

**Authors note **_Once more, this chapter shows Jenny being very highly strung and confused resulting in her strange behaviour. I hope you continue to enjoy and please review! :) _

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><p><em><strong>You Chose This<strong>_

'_Well, I'd rather start off slow  
>This whole thing's like some sort of race<br>Instead of winning what I want  
>I'm sitting here in second place<br>Because somewhere the one I wanna be with's, with somebody else'  
>-Nickelback, Someone that you're with<em>

* * *

><p>Once more Monday morning came back around, and to say there was a different mood in the bull pen was an understatement. Gibbs was back, sat at his desk and already annoyed with Will and Stan for the fact that they were already messing around. To add to his bad mood, the coffee girl had gotten his order wrong, and Stephanie had told him that they were having a meal with her parents at the weekend. So Gibbs was grumpy, and to make matters worse Jenny was apparently late.<p>

However, she actually wasn't. It turned out that whilst she had turned down the job that Tom had offered her whilst they were still in Europe, he wanted her to be more than just Gibbs' probie. So that was why since 4am that morning she had been stuck in MTAC planning an op in Moscow. It was once more about the arms dealing community, and after her undercover work she had basically become NCIS' personal expert on the arms world. So that was why she was up there planning another op.

On a lighter note; her Friday night plan had worked, in fact it had worked very well – even if she knew she wanted nothing more than one night. She'd met a marine who was deploying today and wanted a bit of fun before he went. She hadn't left until Sunday morning, with the promise that when he got back they'd have some fun again. So, even though she was tired, and more than a little bored, she was still in a good mood.

She and Marrow stepped out of the dark room, a brown NCIS file in her arms marked 'HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL' in bright red stamped print. "I think we can get this to work." Said Tom as he looked at the red head stood in front of him. He'd never seen her plan something before, he'd not been massively involved in the Europe operation – that had been McAllister's doing, and as far as he knew Gibbs had been more in charge of it than she had. When it had all been set up she was barely more than a probie after all. But watching her work had been like watching a more polite and courteous Gibbs. She planned everything that would need to be taken into consideration, and did it with such precision, thinking of things that he would never in a million years have considered. In fact, the only thing he needed to decide on was who took part – but he already knew who he wanted there.

"Yeah, I don't see why not." She said, smiling softly as she brushed a stray piece of hair that hadn't managed to be tied into her ponytail behind her ear. She'd continued her 'make Gibbs see what he's missing' plan, but tamed it down for work, dressing in a navy blue shift dress that had a white collar on it. On her feet were the same red heals from Friday night and she had small pearls in her ears.

"Well done Jenny, now go see Gibbs." And with that he headed off towards his office. Feeling content, and not dreading his meeting with the SecNav as much as he previously had been. As she turned to make her way down the stairs she saw the man in question, squinting as he looked at his computer screen, and she felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. Sighing, she made her way downstairs. Jenny was pretty sure that Gibbs thought she wasn't in, so it would be interesting to see how this played out.

"Ahh, Shepard's been allowed to play in the big boys play area." Said William Decker as he smirked at her from across their division where he was sat. She just rolled her eyes playfully at his antics and walked over to her desk, briefly glancing at Gibbs as she did so. Noticing that he didn't look any browner, bu he also didn't look about to kill someone – well, other than her at least.

"Jealous Will?" She asked him, effectively silencing the agent as he decided that he should probably set about getting to work. Jenny turned around with a content smile on her face and placed the file she'd been carrying in the top draw of her desk, and locked it. The last thing she wanted was Gibbs seeing it, which would then result in a lecture about how she was putting herself in harm's way or something. Whilst he tried to act like an over protective father- or husband?

"By the way Jenny, how did that guy do on Friday night? You seem a little tired." Stan said, smirking at the red head who glared back at him. However, her plan was working, and she could feel Gibbs' eyes drilling holes in her at the thought of what she had been doing. Jenny made herself blush furiously, another talent she had managed to master over the years.

"Stan, you wouldn't believe it." She said, smirking, and not lying in the slightest – it _had _been a good night. "I didn't get home until Sunday." The agents all looked at her, like she'd admitted her sin. It was normal for the men to talk about their sex lives, after all ninety percent of the conversations she overheard in the break room were boasting. But they were used to the women being more reserved, which made Jenny smirk – because they had obviously forgotten that she wasn't most women.

Whilst she let them stew, she grabbed her gun, jacket and bag before heading out of the divider. But she had forgotten just how in tune Gibbs was with his surroundings. "Where do you think you're going Shepard?" He growled from behind his desk. 'Shepard' he hadn't called her that since before the first op. And it kind of hurt a little, but it also showed that her plan was working. Because she had obviously got under his skin enough to annoy him.

"For coffee." She replied, smirking ever so slightly as she headed off. But he shouted after her, making her stop and spin on her metallic heal so that she was looking at him.

"Like hell you are, you've only been here two minutes." Gibbs said, standing up from where he was sat. Stan and Will eyed each other, it was a long time since the two partners had argued. When Jenny had first arrived Will had been around to see them, but Stan hadn't. So the lesser experienced agent found it amusing, but anyone who had been there originally began to groan. Their arguments had been renowned, in fact the whole agency had known when they argued.

"Actually Gibbs, I've been here since 0400. And seeming as I didn't sleep much over the weekend, it's either I get coffee or fall asleep at my desk – take your pick." And with that she once again spun on her heel and headed off towards the stairs, ready to go and get the drink that was more like an IV drip to the red head.

Stand couldn't help but fail to mask his laughter at Jenny's comment, but Will just groaned, before turning to his computer to get on with his work, knowing that Gibbs was now going to be in a foul mood for the rest of the day. And if things continued then he may just end up quitting – because his life would end up being nothing short of hell.

Burley was still laughing when Gibbs stood up to go and speak to Ducky, and that was why he ended up with a head slap to kick all head slaps in the ass. Gibbs then stormed off whilst the other agent rubbed the back of his head, squinting through the pain. "What the heck got into him?! That really hurt!" He exclaimed, still rubbing his head.

Will turned to look at the other agent and felt a little sorry for him – not that he would ever admit that though. "Looks like it's all about to start again." He muttered, before opening his emails and warning the rest of headquarters to keep their heads down. Back when arguments had been a daily occurrence, every time one kicked off, an email would be sent around, telling everyone to avoid the bull pen. It wasn't long, of course, until the Director found out where everyone went when an argument kicked off. So he soon cornered Decker, who told him the truth. And that was when his name got added to the email list.

When they fell out with another agent though, they got removed from the list, which almost guaranteed that they would walk in on one, and end up with a head slap which mirrored the one Stan was experiencing. But after the op in Marseille, something changed. Many thought that it was because they had slept together – but Will knew now that they hadn't. No one knew the truth behind what had happened that changed things, and they were all pretty sure that no one ever would. But they were thankful that they had stopped.

Until now though – it seemed.

* * *

><p>It was about a week later when Gibbs was called up the Directors office. Everyone had left for the night – even Jenny. Most of them were heading out for a take away or something which would no doubt end in either food poisoning or a hangover. He'd been invited of course, but he had Stephanie at home – waiting loyally for him. He'd leave soon though, as soon as he had taken the case file up to the Director. He'd noticed how all of his paperwork had been done, and he knew who had done it. Jethro just hadn't managed to talk to her since.<p>

The arguments had started up again, and where as last time it was both of them picking them, this time around it seemed to just be him. Every chance he got he was biting her for something. Gibbs didn't know why the fact that she had slept with a man that wasn't him bothered him so much, after all he was the one who had gone and gotten married. But it did, and he couldn't help it. So at every chance he'd been arguing with her, and he hadn't a clue why. Whether it was the fact that her outfits seamed to look so damn hot at the moment, or that she was just rubbing him the wrong way.

Jenny had been spending more time in MTAC, and if he was honest he felt like he knew he would lose her to some other job. Maybe he was making distance so that when the time came it didn't hurt as much?

-Whatever the reason, he knew he was being an ass.

Running a tired hand down his face he stood up, grabbed the brown NCIS file and made his way up the stairs to the office. Tom's assistant had gone, so he just walked in – not knocking as per usual. The director looked not the slightest bit bothered by the agent's entry – he was used to it, Franks had acted almost the same.

"The case report." Gibbs stated, placing it on his desk, before heading for the door, only to be stopped before he left.

"I need to talk to you." Tom said, looking up from his paperwork and nodding to one of the chairs. Gibbs closed the door, and moved over to the seats which were positioned opposite the Director. "How was your honeymoon?"

"Well she didn't threaten to kill me – so it was better than last time." Gibbs stated referring to his honeymoon with Diane. He watched as Tom smirked. Back when he was married to Diane, there were numerous times that his marital arguments had spewed into NCIS. Mainly because she was set on the fact Gibbs and Jenny were having an affair. So much that she came into NCIS when they were on the weekend shift to make sure that they actually were.

"Well, that is _always _helpful." Tom Said, but he could tell Gibbs was itching to ask what he was really wanting to talk about. So the director decided to end the phatic talk, and get one with what he really wanted to ask. "Do you think that Jenny would cope with another deep cover op?"

Gibbs was taken aback, he'd thought that Jenny had been sorting out many things – even training agents had passed through his mind. But not for a minute had he thought she was helping plan another op. And as he thought about the question, he realised that part of his wanted to say no, just because he didn't want to risk losing her. But he knew she would cope. Sure it had been hard undercover, and there had been moments when neither of them thought that they could continue, but if she had a lead role in the cover, he knew she'd thrive. "Yeah, I think she would." He said, even though he didn't want to.

"What about if she was alone?" he asked. And that had Gibbs wanting to turn into the Hulk. Sending her undercover as part of a team was one thing; but sending her alone – he wasn't even going to consider that. He cared too much about his red headed partner to let her go undercover on her own – no matter how bigger back up team she had.

"You can't be serious?!"

"It would be under the same alias as when you two were undercover. Only sending you in as well is not a good idea. First you're married now which causes a heck of a load more issues, all we need is someone to catch sight of a picture and it is all over. Second, you were prominent in bringing the Russians down. Their business if broke now – which is good. But they will be too weary of you."

"You asked her?" Gibbs jumped in. Almost going mad, the people they had been after last time were awful, and the mission had been even worse. Going in alone may just break her.

"Yeah, she knows I want her in the role. She almost volunteered herself for it."

"So why are you me Tom?" Gibbs questioned, confused that if the Director already had his answer, then why he was being consulted.

"Well you do know her best Gibbs, wanted to check you think she would cope."

"She can damn well make her own decisions." And with that the silver haired man stood up and left the office, slamming the door heavily behind him as he did so. Tom sighed, he had heard about the arguments, in fact he had _heard _a few from up in his office. But it was only now that he could see just how much things had changed. And as he sat back in his chair, he groaned, there was absolutely nothing that he could do to help.

* * *

><p>He walked in, slamming the door behind him. Forgetting he no longer lived alone, and that Stephanie was in the kitchen, he went straight down to the basement. Grabbing his slightly dusty bottle of Bourbon and pouring a healthy amount into a mason jar – not even wiping it first. He had downed it in one by the time Stephanie stood at the top of the stairs, looking worried. "Dammit Jenny!" He cursed under his breath, not realising that his wife was stood there.<p>

"What's going on Jethro?" She asked concern in her voice as she watched her husband chuck a load of nails hap hazardously onto the concrete floor. He screwed his eyes up, trying not to bite her head off, knowing it was too early to wreck his marriage.

"Nothing." He answered, sighing loudly to himself.

"You lie to me Gibbs, and this marriage will be over before you can drink another glass of bourbon!" She said, as she began to walk down the stairs. Gibbs mentally shook himself and walked over to her, meeting the red head at the bottom of the stairs so she didn't hurt her sock glad feet. "So?" She asked, but her reply was him kissing her softly.

"Just work."

"Well it's obviously not _just _work."

"What's for tea?" He asked, she eyed him knowingly, letting him be warned that this wasn't the end of the conversation. But with that she took his hand and led him upstairs.

"Pasta okay?" She asked, trying to add some normality into their lives. And although they spoke over the meal, Stephanie was not stupid, she knew that he had something else on his mind. But she also knew that prying would only cause more issues, so she decided to leave it for the time being.

* * *

><p>The next day, Jenny and Gibbs stood in the lift, heading back up to the bullpen after going to see Ducky about their latest case. Silence spread out between them, the tension could be cut with a knife, neither one looked at the other. Then just as they were about to get to the bull pen he flicked the emergency switch. And Jenny just rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what was to come. "I'm surprised you waited so long. So, what's up boss?" She asked. Gibbs internally cringed at her calling him 'boss'. She hadn't done that in a very long time.<p>

"When were ya going to tell me you were planning on going undercover in Moscow?" He asked accusingly. She just sighed, knowing that she should have expected Marrow to talk to him about it, after all he was still her partner.

"How about when I got a formal offer? Would that have been a good enough time?" She asked; just as accusingly as he had done so. Jenny watched as the anger flared in him, but she didn't care. He'd been a pain in her ass as of late, so it was about time he got a taste of his own medicine.

"How about when you first found out Jenny? You're gonna get yourself killed going in there alone!"

"Oh have some faith in me Gibbs; I'm not your damn probie anymore!" She shouted back at him.

"No? Then stop acting like you are!"

Jenny rose her eyebrows, shocked at his words. "Excuse me; you're the one acting like a damn child! I did you're damn job for two weeks, and I did it well!"

"If you were that good then why are you still working on my team?"

"Because I turned down my own, _thinking_ that we were maybe friends Gibbs."

"Way to act like a friend Shepard? Keeping secrets!"

"I was going to tell you!"

"Cause you were Jenny."

"I'm not attached at your hip Jethro! I have my own damn life!"

"Yeah, flaunting your sex life in the bull pen – damn mature."

She had to stop herself punching him for a moment; her lips were clenched in a straight line. Then she said something that she knew she would regret. "Why shouldn't I? I'm your partner after all, not you're flaming wife!"

"That what this is about Jen? Showing that you don't need me anymore? Well maybe you should try going off on your own."

"You think I wouldn't cope?"

"I think you're too immature."

Jenny flicked the switch, and the doors almost immediately opened, scoffing as she walked out of the lift. "Well let's see shall we?"

"Fine by me." He replied, both of them pacing to their desks.

Turning to look at him, she slapped him, and he looked at her, shocked. "Just remember, _Agent _Gibbs, you chose this." And with that she headed up to the Directors office to tell him she would do the op. And she would happily do it alone.


	4. Semper Fi

**Disclaimer : **_NCIS is not mine_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Semper Fi<strong>_

'_This is my temporary home, it's not where I belong__  
><em>_Windows and rooms that I'm passing through__  
><em>_This was just a stop on the way to where I'm going__  
><em>_I'm not afraid because I know this was my temporary home'  
>-Carrie Underwood, Temporary Home<em>

* * *

><p>Weeks became months.<p>

Summer passed them by, and autumn was on the doorstep.

Everything had carried on perfectly where planning the op in Moscow was concerned. In fact, it was now just a few weeks before she would be flying out there, ready to play her part in catching one of the main players in the European arms dealing ring. In fact, they were so close that she had already begun to buy the clothes she would wear when undercover, told Noami to have the time off, and had her first health check in with Ducky.

It was all falling into place perfectly.

And then there was Gibbs. They had barely spoken since she slapped him, and when they did it was just more arguments. However the silver hared fox had partially gotten his own way when it came to her mission. He was to fly out to Moscow a few weeks after her, and stay in a cottage with Stephanie. They wouldn't be involved in the mission, but 1) it had shut him up and 2) it meant that he was on call if she needed any assistance. Even if he was well aware of the fat she would rather kill herself than ask for it.

The SecNav had been much happier with this arrangement, and it suited everyone. But then Marrow had realised just how cracked their relationship had actually come, and just how close to breaking it was at the moment. Which had them all worried as to how effectively they would be able to work together, especially when the last time their covers had been active they'd been the best of friends. Jenny and Gibbs had been a couple in their cover last time, and as they were using the same alias' they had to find a way not to be this time considering he was bringing his wife.

Jenny's alias was that of a well to do french girl, the daughter of an American Army Cornal and a French maid – both of whom were now deceased. That was where she got her contacts for arms dealing from. The red head was fluent in French, and her accent was spot on. The only floor in her cover was that she spoke no Russian and therefore knew that her time in Russia was likely to be lonely. Gibbs had been the high school dropout who had had an eye for a bargain. He'd fallen on the wrong side of the law and gradually – expertly – gained a reputation. His mother was a woman who had fled Russia at a young age and a father who had been a low ranking naval officer – once more both were deceased. And that allowed for Gibbs to have had only mediocre French and fluent Russian. All in all it had made them a perfect pair for the last op.

The updated cover was; Jenny had gotten bored of being his second in command – Gibbs had played the part of being extremely chauvinistic bordering on misogynistic perfectly - after he'd screwed up with the Russians (they got arrested by European authorities following the op and once all operatives were safely extradited), she'd abandoned a sinking ship, choosing to start her own business instead. So she'd broken up with Gibbs – it was all designed to allow their frosty relationship in reality not to damage the cover.

Primarily she was going to be on her own for the duration of the operation - that was something that she didn't mind in the slightest. Although it was going to be hard it would mean she would be free to do what needed to be done to make it successful. Jenny was more relieved that she was not going to be having anyone breathing down her neck and telling her how to do it.

* * *

><p>Jenny Shepard sat on the roof of NCIS. She'd taken the fire escape up – not wanting to be around anyone - and worked the lock so that she didn't set any alarms off in the process. She'd only discovered this place a couple of weeks ago after yet another fight with her partner, but it already felt like the only place she could think in the building. Up on the roof it was away from the chaos of her life, of her job, away from everyone who expected something of her. Here, she could watch over all those people, see how they were acting, watch as people fell in and out of love, went about their day to day life. Meanwhile forgetting the troubles she herself was experiencing.<p>

Jenny's ponytail blew backwards, the wind carrying it along with it on its journey just as it did with the teal scarf draped around her neck. She was sat with her arms wrapped around her long chino clad legs, the thin white blouse she wore, covered by her tan leather jacket in and attempt to try and keep her warm whilst her feet showed a second splash of colour in teal brogues. The whole ensemble was elegant, and although in the back of her mind she still had a nagging voice telling her to tell Gibbs what he was missing, she was back in emotional turmoil.

Since he had tied the knot she'd gone through every emotion known to man, acted like a liar, a friend, an ex-wife, and now . . . she had been acting simply jealous. The truth was that Jenny didn't know how to act, because she didn't know what role she fitted into. Truth be told she didn't what role she had fitted into before. When he wasn't married there was nothing stopping their gentle flirting, the late nights spent up late talking. They hadn't had to worry what people thought, or if they chose to gossip about them being a couple – because it was harmless scuttlebutt. Now though, everything was completely different, and as Jenny sat up on the roof, it felt like a light switch went on in her brain.

It was time to grow up, because her behaviour could be summed up in one word: immature.

Lifting her face up slightly she closed her eyes so that the wind pushed against her face, causing her cheeks to flush with cold and make her eyes want to water ever so much. Sighing to herself she realised that now her role was as his friend, as his partner. That she would respect his decisions, because if the roles were reversed then he would not be acting this way.

It was time to stop the games and get on with life. When she went out to Moscow she wanted to know that he would have her back. But Jenny knew that in the last few weeks especially a lot of damage had been done, and it was not something that was going to be repaired overnight. It would take a long time. Because when they had argued, the slap she'd dealt him wasn't the worse thing. What was worse than that were the things they'd dragged up. After all they knew one another so well that they knew which buttons to push to hurt one another.

"Jennifer my dear, I think they're about to send out a search party down there. Jethro is throwing a fit." Said a softly Scottish voice from beside of her. The red head smirked at the doctor behind her, smiling at the way his own hair was blowing over his face as he made his way over to talk to her. Slowly sitting down beside the agent. Ducky sat there, his red bowtie signature to him just as much as his long stories. "He's scared." The Scotsman said, casting his glance over to look at her.

Jenny stayed looking forwards; if she turned to Ducky she wasn't sure what her tumultuous emotions would do next. "So am I." And it was the first time she had openly admitted it. "If you tell him that though I'll kill you Ducky."

"I wouldn't dare. But you need to talk to him, Jethro still sees you as his probie – even if you're not. He's terrified that without him being there, if everything goes south he might lose you."

"I can look after myself." She stated, trying as hard as she could to sound like she truly mean what she was saying. Even if Jenny was casually beginning to doubt it herself, she'd never done anything like this op in her life before. She'd always had him by her side – protecting her.

"You and I both know that is not what this is about my dear." He said and watched as she nodded, letting her eyes close slowly once more. Taking deep breaths as she thought about everything that was to come.

"I . . . I don't want-"She let herself take another deep breath, not knowing what she was about to say. "I never wanted it to get this far Duck, I was just annoyed and confused . . . I guess I still am. But now I get that I've been out of order."

"Don't blame yourself Jennifer; it's not _all _your fault."

"No, no I know." She said, and with that he stood up, groaning slightly at his joints. "Can you please find somewhere slightly warmer and comfier to hide next time – I'm getting too old for this." Jenny softly laughed, promising him she would return to her job in a moment. Ducky left her after that and she stood up, looking down on the Navy Yard. She'd go and see Jethro that evening, and she'd say what needed to be said. For now though she had better go and find her team before the man who plagued her thoughts actually murdered some poor innocent probie.

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?" his voice was harsh, accusing and she hadn't even stepped into the divider yet. Gibbs saw the way her cheeks were flushed and hair was a little windswept with wisps escaping the restraint of the band containing it all behind her head. He guessed she'd been outside, especially considering that she had grabbed her coat before she left. As he looked at her he saw pure exhaustion, a woman who he had been constantly been arguing with him whilst trying to be so many things and do so many jobs.<p>

"Needed some air, I'm back now." She said softly before sitting down at her desk to get on with some work. She wiggled her mouse and shrugged off her jacket before grabbing the file in front of her and scanning over it once more as she familiarised herself with the case they were working. Jenny sat there and could feel the eyes of her partner on her, but she ignored them. She was tired and worn out, emotionally and physically.

But when Stan knew that Gibbs was occupied, he and Will both glared at the red head, concern written over their faces. Jenny felt their eyes on her and lifted her eyes slightly, the concern made her heart swell, and she just gave them what she hoped was a reassuring smile. But in reality it just seemed a little empty to the observers. "Shepard." Jenny looked up from her desk to see the director and she just nodded, knowing it would no doubt be about the op she was about to be sent on. So she picked up the sheet of paper that held all of her notes and passed it over to Will to present to Gibbs when he asked. At least that might make him a little more civil. Jenny then began to walk to the stairs, feeling Gibbs' judgemental eyes on her for the whole time.

"Sir?" She asked the slightly greying Director as she stood opposite him. She'd been spending all of her free time sorting out for the op. She had been learning her cover, practicing her already perfect French and going over plans for the millionth time. Just in case something happened and it was all brought forward.

"SecNav is on the line. Can Gibbs spare you?"

"Well I can certainly spare him." She mumbled, choosing instead to just walk into MTAC, the darkness that filled the room a welcome relief from being in the spotlight. And below in the bullpen, as Gibbs watched her walk away. He hated the arguments, he hated the way they were always trying to hurt the other, the way that everything had turned sour. He knew that he was just as much responsible as she was. Maybe he was even more?

* * *

><p>Jenny didn't leave MTAC until late that evening, it was gone seven and Gibbs had left the bullpen. Something that would have been completely out of the ordinary at one point in time, but that now was just another day. Because Gibbs frequently left earlier to go and see his wife – something Jenny had never witnessed happening with Diane. So as she walked out into the dusk bullpen she felt alone. The op was being brought forward to next week – something that had made her stomach knot up with worry inside. Gibbs would be flying out on the date she was originally meant to do so.<p>

So Jenny Shepard would become Julietta De Sauveterre in just over a week. And that was a daunting thought - especially when there would be no Jethro beside of her.

The red head walked down to her desk, and grabbed her jacket deciding that it was time to go and face reality and speak to Jethro. So once she had turned her light off she made her way out. The whole time, beginning to realise just how much everything was about to change.

* * *

><p>It wasn't like the old days, Jenny couldn't just walk straight in without a second thought. And that was something it would take a very long time to get used to. There was another woman in the house, and it wouldn't all be dark. So Jenny stopped herself and knocked on the door, standing there and feeling slightly awkward. She hadn't really seen Stephanie since the day of the wedding, and even then she had attempted to avoid her at all costs. The door opened and Jenny plastered on a smile as Stephanie appeared. "Jenny? What a surprise we weren't expecting you!" The other red head said.<p>

"Yeah, sorry I'm a bit impromptu, I need to speak to Jethro I'm afraid." She said smiling and walking in as Stephanie signalled for her to.

"Maybe you can get him out of this terrible mood! Half of me thinks it's about Moscow – I mean he'd bound to be stressed - but I'm just not sure!"

"I'm afraid that it's me." Jenny said a little light-heartedly.

"Oh I'm sure it's not! I'm looking forward to Moscow, I hear it's beautiful in the spring – if we're there for that long."

"Personally I'm hoping we're not, but it is meant to be beautiful." Jenny said, the thought of being there for that long turning her stomach. Her plan was to be in and out as quickly and cleanly as humanly possible.

"Oh of course! Sorry I forget it's not a holiday. Anyway, he's in the basement, take yourself down."

"Thanks." Jenny said before heading down the rickety stairs. It was dark down there and her senses were almost immediately captured by the iconic smell of bourbon and sawdust that filled the room. It was a smell that brought back so many memories of evenings spend down in this dark room putting the world to right. And it broke her heart to think that she couldn't even turn his head away from his boat anymore.

"Thought I heard someone." He said, not looking at her but walking over and downing the rest of his bourbon before refilling that and a second mason jar. Jenny didn't wait to be offered; she just walked over and took it before perching on the edge of his work surface. They remained silent, and she drank the whiskey – relishing the burn at the back of her throat. When nearly five minutes had passed she knew she had to say something.

"The op had been brought forwards, I leave next week." She said, watching as the muscles under his t-shirt went rigid at the thought. And that was precisely what told her he still cared. After everything that had happened and been said he still was scared of her going alone.

"We'll manage." He said, not sure whether or not he was meant to be nice or if an argument was brewing. But he knew she wasn't telling him because of the team but because she wanted to meant things. However his stubborn pride was not budging.

"It's not you I'm worrying about." She said, but neither replied. "Jethro . . . I-" And without breaking one of his rules she couldn't do anything. Jenny no longer held the power that was required to repair the significantly large crack that was residing in their relationship.

"What happened Jen?" And the nickname made her want to cry. He hadn't called her that in such a long time now. "I come back to work and you're just like ice. You're cold and –"

"You came back and expected everything to be the same? Hell Jethro how could everything be the same? You are married, and not two minutes after Paris!"

"Nothing happened in Parish Jenny!" And he watched her look away. Jethro realised then how wrong he was. Nothing physical had happened, but emotionally he realised he must have been blind. "Is that what this is about?"

"No Jethro, this is about me going on the op early." She lied – blatantly. And he just acknowledged it. Watching as she downed the remainder of her bourbon.

"Well then, if that is it then everything is fine." He said and she just nodded, placing her mason jar back down on the wooden plank she was sitting on.

"Good." She said, but she was just as aware as he was that everything was far from fine. "You're flying out earlier too, so you might want to tell Stephanie – I'm sure she has shopping to do."

"You'll be alright." And Jenny wasn't sure what he was talking about, because there were so many things that in that moment she was far from alright with. But they were obviously things to be dealt with on another day. One when there wasn't a wife upstairs listening or an op on both of their minds. So she answered with yet another lie.

"I always am." And with that they both turned to look up as Stephanie stood there waiting to ask a question.

"Jenny would you like to stay for something to eat?" But she knew that wasn't her place – once upon a time maybe, but not now. So she politely declined and the woman went back into the kitchen. His partner then stood up and made her way over to the stairs, but his words stopped her.

"I'll have your six Jenny." And as she fought against the tears of fear about to cascade down her face, she responded in a barely audible whisper.

"Semper fi." And with that she left the house, and Gibbs, and in a week she would leave the life she had. Everything was about to change, and yet all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and got back to a time when things were so very much simpler.

A time when she knew just where she stood.


	5. Turning Heads

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _I'm so sorry for the delay, college is really leaving me very little time to write. However i hope you like this chapter, and i'll try and update more soon. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p><em><strong>Turning Heads<strong>_

'_There're angels watching over me, they're here to shield you,  
>So you don't yield to the devil, when your soul gets weak,<br>But they're hard to hear when you're jamming gears.  
>And they're always hanging back,<br>__If they wanna save me, they better step on the gas.'_

_-Eric Church, Faster Than my Angels can Fly_

* * *

><p>She walked off of the flight desperately attempting to walk with her head held high with confidence. She'd booked about seven or eight flights into Moscow, all departing from a range of different airports just to cover her tracks. The flights were in the name of Julietta De Sauveterre; Jenny Shepard had not left America. The NCIS agent had been left back at her brownstone last night. She'd been left in the squad room after she had said her goodbyes. A hug for Will, and the look that told her he was there for her. William Decker was one of the best that side of the Atlantic when it came to overlooking Covert Operations and not getting seen. Jenny was pretty sure that he would know more about just what she was doing that she herself would know. And although it was a slightly strange thing, it was reassuring. Knowing that someone had her back, someone with whom her relationship was not on scarily thin ice.<p>

Jenny Shepard had been left in the bullpen of NCIS headquarters as she chased after Stan Burley – like two high school children or a bickering brother and sister. He'd stolen her passport and had been dead set on flaunting the typically terrible picture to the entirety of NCIS. However the entire of NCIS had simply consisted a few agents sat finishing work at their desks, most of whom had simply laughed at their antics and rolled their eyes as oppose to sneaking a peak at the troublesome picture. But after she'd tacked him to the floor and retrieved the object that was causing such mayhem, they'd sort of locked eyes – Jenny wasn't entirely sure how to describe it – they'd just . . . had a look. Like the way she was able to have a conversation with Gibbs without speaking, they just looked at each other and knew that they cared about one another. That whatever happened, their arms would be open, and there would still be a place in their hearts.

Jenny Shepard, the agent, the partner . . . the pain in her boss' ass had been left looking awkwardly at the man who had always been beside her side. The man who had always supported her and guided her through the storms so that she became the woman who stood opposite him - not knowing what to say or how to act. As it turned out, for once Gibbs made the first move, he just hugged her, and she buried her scared face in the crook of his neck. She let the smell of coffee; sawdust and his cologne assault her senses, and relax her body. Jenny then pulled back and looked at him, and he just mimicked the words she had said to him not even a week ago, and it was all she needed to hear to know that when she came back they may just be able to repair the damage the last few months had caused. "Semper fi."

* * *

><p>Her hair was almost dead straight, with just the ends curled under ever so slightly and the feathered sides framing her face. Her makeup was heavier than that of Jenny Shepard, and she'd tried to revert back to her old style, the style she had created for Julietta De Sauveterre back with Gibbs in what now seemed like the comfort of Paris. But at the same time, she knew that the odd change would just show how her alias had changed – just as the woman playing her had done so. The red head had her eyes lashes covered with mascara and lids with grey shadow. Her lips were covered in a dark pink lipstick that tasted softly of strawberries. Jenny wore skinny legged black trousers, a deep pink blouse which was tucked in and black suede Louboutin boots. Her coat was a light camel coloured, thick woollen trench coat with a belt; the whole ensemble was sophisticated and had an air of money. It was just the look she had wanted. Mixing the French chic of Julietta's heritage with the American sophistication that came with her job.<p>

The red head walked over to the small coffee shot she spotted, carrying a large pale pink overnight bag over her shoulder. Jenny was to be staying in a small apartment in the city, one which was secure, had large open rooms, views over the river and was modern. The whole thing screamed understated wealth – just what she wanted. Some of her clothes and things had already been moved in, she just held the few remaining items with her. She smiled at the man behind the counter but his face remained expressionless. "Un Café, s'il vous plait." She said, smiling before slipping into an accented English to clarify her order. "Désolé, a coffee please." The man behind the counter nodded, and she smiled once more before handing over the money and taking the cardboard cup and walking away.

It scared her ever so slightly when she realised how easily she had slipped into the role. How easily and seamlessly she had slipped out of living as Jennifer Shepard and become Julietta. It made her wonder how much of Jenny Shepard she had never regained after going undercover the first time around with Jethro. Wondered if there was a piece of that woman who had been left in a hotel room somewhere is Paris, waiting to be reclaimed.

The red head pushed the thoughts from her mind and slipped into the back of one of the taxis which were waiting outside of the airport in order to get trade. She smiled politely at the driver before telling him the street that she needed. "Moskvoretskaya nab, please." Her Russian was more than a little rusty, which considering it had never been good caused her great surprise when he actually understood where she wanted to go. The only advantage with Russia was that most places spoke reasonable good English, and those that didn't would understand a mixture of English, French and random hand movements as she tried to explain what she wanted.

Sitting in the back of the old car as it drove manically through the streets, she watched out of her window as the city passed her by. The weather was wet, the streets were dark, and it was absolutely freezing! As Jenny watched all she wanted to do was go home, suddenly it dawned on her just what she had let herself in for. When Stephanie had said how beautiful Moscow was meant to be in the spring, Jenny had just brushed the comment off. But that had been how she had been last time around, meanwhile Gibbs had done the worrying – after all she'd only been the lover of one of the main players, she hadn't been the player.

This time around it was her freaking out, and yet she had no one to distract her.

* * *

><p>Jenny got out of the taxi and paid the money, as soon as she had removed her arm he was gone, and she was left standing there opposite the river. On the other side the rest of the city spread out. The water took on the colour of the grey sky, the building that looked like toy town across from her held little colour either. She was pretty sure the entire scene could be created from one palette of colour. Taking a very deep breath of the bitter air, she fished the key out of one of the pockets in her bag, and as she made her way up to the apartment she felt just numb.<p>

Stepping into the apartment she placed the keys on the nearest surface and closed the door behind her. The place was reasonably open plan. As you walked through to door you walked into the main large space, the kitchen on the left and then there was the living room to the front. It was painted in a very pale pastel lemon. The furniture consisted of primarily white washed wood in the living area, the seats were covered in a coral like colour and the whole collection had a sense of French grandeur. The kitchen cupboards were once more whitewashed, but the working top was a stained hard wood. Jenny thought it looked a lot better than some of the places they had stayed in last time around. But it was cold.

She walked over to the thermostat and turned it up before grabbing her bag and taking it to her bedroom which was decorated in the same colours. And as she sat down on the bed she looked around the room, it felt dark and cold . . . pretty much like the city she was in. Her stomach churned with nerves, and all she could do not to run away was try and occupy herself. So she began to unpack, taking each individual item out of her bag and placing them all into their specific draws and hangers.

It wasn't long before she was finished though, after all most of her items had been bought for her and placed in the room. A few of the clothes she gave a distasteful look to – short skirts and clingy dresses. But she wouldn't throw them away – who knew what hand she was about to be dealt; It was all still up in the air.

The red head then walked into her kitchen and flicked on the kettle, deciding to make some coffee – and mentally praising Decker for the decent coffee that was in one of the cupboards. And once she was sat down on of the surprisingly comfortable sofas she mentally planned out what she was to do next. Jenny wasn't one for sitting back and doing nothing, so it was time to get started, and get her presence recognised – it was time to make a stir in Moscow.

* * *

><p>"Will I need some clothes for spring summer? Or should I just pack for winter and buy things over there?" Stephanie asked as she walked to the top of the basement stairs with a pile of freshly ironed clothes in her arms. But the red head was beginning to think she was talking to herself. Since Jenny had left her husband had been in a terrible mood – he'd barely said two words. And whilst she understood that he was worried, she only had so much of a temper.<p>

"S'up to you." He mumbled as he stood there sorting out a box of nails. Not even looking over at his wife who was desperately trying. Deep down he knew he was being a pain, and that he was out of order. But all he could thing about was whether Jenny was safe or not, whether she was managing or not. She'd been gone a week, and it wasn't long until they were due to fly out. But Gibbs knew that even when he was out there he wasn't going to see her – and if he did then he might well just blow her cover.

"What is the shopping like in Moscow?" she asked him, trying once more to start a conversation.

"Wasn't really there to go sightseeing Steph." He stated before turning to look at her and seeing the annoyance in her eyes.

"No, but I thought you might have paid some damn attention Jethro! God knows you do to everyone but me!" And with that she walked off, leaving him to wallow in his own self pity in his basement. But the silver haired marine ran a hand down his face before head slapping his head. He knew that if he didn't sort himself out, he was going to lose her. And she would be just another notch on his bed post - another name to add to the ever growing list.

So he made his way up the basement steps two at a time, and then the stairs, so that he could reach their bedroom. And when he got there he found his wife sat looking at the half filled suitcase that currently resided on their floor, slowly being filled with their clothes – by her. HE walked over and sat next to her, to say he loved her would be too much, but he knew she loved him and he cared for her – that was true. "Steph I-"But she just shook her head and looked at him.

"I'm trying Jethro, god knows I am trying. You don't want kids, but I do, and I'm willing to not have that. You want us to go to Moscow and I haven't objected. You've been a damn b-pain in my ass recently but I've let it slide. I know you're worried about her, but I'm your wife, and I . . . I need a bit of give and take Jethro. I can't do all this-"

"I'll try Steph, I'll try." He said, before hugging her tightly. And naively she believed him. "Take winter clothes, we'll buy anything else over there." Still with her head on his shoulder she nodded, before separating herself and standing up.

"Have you heard anything from her?" The red head asked as she began to take out some of her husband's clothes and fold them ready to be packed away. Stephanie looked over at her husband to see him running a hand down his face.

"She got there safely, but other than that . . . Decker hasn't said anything." He looked over at her, as she packed his things away and felt a wave of guilt. She hadn't signed up for this, she hadn't signed up for any of this. But there she was, trying so hard to make it work and with every brick she put up he just knocked it back down.

"No news is good news, isn't that was they say?" She asked rhetorically as she placed the clothes in the case. Gibbs just took he hand and squeezed it before pulling her over to him and kissing her softly. When they parted she rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. There was nothing she could say, his best friend and partner was on a covert operation and for the first time he wasn't by her side. It was something she believed she would never be able to fully comprehend to the extent that he did.

* * *

><p>Jenny was perched on a barstool in the city. A bar in which she knew that if she tried just hard enough she would get noticed in. so that was why she was perched on the stool, a glass of vodka in front of her (watered down so that she would be able to stay longer and increase her chances of being noticed) looking like a sin. That was something the red head was well aware of. She'd spent every night in the past week there, subtly flirting and making just enough of a stir. Jenny was dressed in a dark Navy dress with a slash neckline and an A line skirt. Her feet were clad in those same red metallic heeled shoes that had done so much good on the night she had gone on the pull. Around her neck was a string of pearls and an individual pearl in each ear.<p>

Jenny's hair was straightened but tied up into a messy bun, emphasising her bright red lips. Jenny sat there, listening to the music of ABBA playing softly in the back ground. She wore a smirk on her lips, and kept glancing around the room. But she had been half heartedly watching the game of chess which was taking place on a table in the corner when she realised someone had sat down beside of her. Turning around she found herself face to face with a man whom she recognised.

He was well built, muscled and she guessed toned – however no attractive. His hair was jet black whilst his skin was almost white in paleness. His eyes were dark and didn't shine or sparkle, they were deep set and his eyebrows resembled to caterpillars on his forehead which was creased with lines. A white scar stood out on his left cheek, a scar she remembered making one night when he'd tried it one with her.

The man in question was Yakov Koslovsky, one of the men whom at the time of her last op with Gibbs had been slowly working his way up the ranks in the arms dealing circle. But who now she had got wind was one of the big boss's footmen. And she was not surprised to find he'd made something of himself – if that was the right expression to use. Yakov had always been good with both his fists and his brain. Although he had tried it on with her – and she had responded violently – she knew that he was by no means the worst out of all of the men she had met. In fact she'd always believed that given the right woman he would make a husband.

But until then, he would remain being the dark, violent and gruff man who he was today.

He watched her, a smirk of his face as he took in her image: sitting there, legs crossed and lips beautifully sinful. _That _was the reason she had taken the time she had with her appearance. Whilst in her NCIS career she had not used her looks, in her alias' world it was very different. In arms dealing you used what you had, and if that was how you looked then so be it.

"Where is your snake of a lover tonight?" He drawled, as though looking for an opportunity. But if it came to it then Jenny's switch blade was strapped to her thigh and gun in her bag.

"_Leo _could be anywhere in the world for all I care." She said, smirking beautifully at the man opposite. Gibbs' name had been chosen because o the way it sounded like an American name – hence his father's heritage – but derived from the Russian name of Lev which was his mother's heritage. "I fly solo now, and I'm a hell of a lot more dangerous that way." She then grabbed the remainder of her Vodka, slugged it back and stood up. Gracefully in one moment she pulled on her coat and left with a wink.

Just mysterious enough to get him to look into her. And soon, she'd be in. This was a dangerous way to play, one she knew Gibbs would disapprove of, but Gibbs wasn't there. She was playing by her own rules now.


	6. Smoke on Ice

**Disclaimer **_NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note **_I want to apologise for the delay – it's here now! And just point out that I have never been to Russia or Moscow, and the extent of my knowledge comes from Google Maps and tv shows. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p><em><strong>Smoke on Ice<strong>_

'_I've got a voice, It's all I need, A beating heart inside of me,  
>I'm an army of one, I'm a soldier.<br>These eyes hold no disguise, We're fighting for our lives,  
>We're all trying to get back home tonight.<br>Never give up.'  
>-Bon Jovi, Army of One<em>

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><p>Smoke blew out through her lacquered lips as she let her lungs exhale the toxic cigarette smoke. Something that she despised, yet had accepted when offered with the off chance that it might get her acceptance into the boy's club. They'd lit it for her, and as she placed it between her lips and inhaled. Jenny had been well aware that the eyes of every man around the table were on her. That they sat there, smirks ready to crack with the hope she'd start coughing uncontrollably. But this was not the first cigarette Jenny had ever smoked – she had been young, wild and free once upon a time. So she just let a smirk form over her own lips when a look of shock hit the rest of them.<p>

It was just over two weeks since her first meeting with Yakov Koslovsky in that bar. Since then she'd seen him numerous times, and last week he had finally asked her what it was that had brought her to Russia. Jenny had smirked and given him just a couple of words and let him assume the rest. That was the beauty of the arms world – no one said anything explicitly. Illocution was in every sentence spoken, those who had been around long enough all shared the same perlocution, and those who hadn't become completely and utterly baffled. So Jenny's small tid bits of information were all she needed to say.

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><p><em>She rested her head on her hand, lips slightly risen at the corners, the light passing a small shadow over her eyes causing a darkness in her image. Her eyes sparkled, just as she knew they would do. Her outfit was formal, and the blouse she wore left just enough to the imagination whilst being perfectly enticing. In front of her was her standard watered down Vodka, and opposite her was Yakov. "Why are you back in Russia Julietta?" He asked, his voice monotonous, dark and husky from years of smoking the foul cigars and cigarettes he so loved. <em>

_She raised her eyes before looking down. Jenny knew how to play this, it was the same way she always played things when someone asked her what her job was and she didn't want them to know. The red head licked her lips, and sat up, undoing the bobble in her hair so that the red locks fell lose. Placing her head back on her hand she pushed the red locks over her shoulder so that they cascaded down her back. Reaching forward she placed the clear glass to her lips, pausing to speak before she drank from it. "Leo betrayed us all. So I left him." The liquid slid down her throat, and even after a week of drinking it, and it being watered down, it still burnt the back of her throat. Still it caused her tongue to feel like a flame was lapping at it. "I decided I could do business better than him." She said, looking down at the glass. Her voice was house; from what she hoped he would think was emotion but what in actual fact was caused by the burn of the Vodka. _

_She saw out of the corner of her eye him smirk, and order another shot of vodka for himself. There was a look in his eyes that made he think he was planning something. "Why Moscow?"_

_And Jenny just smirked, thinking of what Stephanie had said to her the day she visited the house. They'd be arriving soon, Jethro would be in the same country as her, and she wondered just how long it would take him to turn up on her doorstep questioning her game plan. "Well they do say it is beautiful in the spring."_

* * *

><p>Now she was sat around a table – outside in the freezing cold – with Yakov and some of the other game players. They all spoke a mixture of Russian and English, so she only understood a small amount of the conversation. But that was all she needed, because she knew that all of their attention was on her. She'd chosen a knitted sweater dress in a dark beige colour which hit mid thigh. She'd put on a pair of black tights, which meant that her legs were currently freezing. Her feet were clad in black suede boots and she had put on the Royal blue jacket that she bought a couple of days ago at some boutique she passed. It had cost an arm and a leg but the colour worked perfectly and caught every ones eye. "And you Ms De Sauveterre, you think the erm . . . cheaper arms are the way to go? Small over large?" Jenny turned to look at the man beside her. She'd not caught his name, but he looked to be older than the rest, and the only one of the men not dressed completely in black. Jenny blew a line of smoke from between her lips, and took a moment to contemplate her answer to his question.<p>

"It depends on your supplier." She said, smirking to herself as she tried to boost her reputation. "But with me, size is not everything. I know many people who've gone large and haven't a clue how to use it. That's why our business is in such catastrophe."

She wasn't sure who understood what she said or what she was implying, but from the smirk that was forming over Yakov's face, she knew his English was definitely good enough to understand her. "I do not understand?" The man beside her said once again. But Jenny was still watching Yakov; she rolled her eyes for his sake, and turned back to the man beside her with a smirk.

"If you can't play with the big boys, then don't try." She smirked once more than proceeded to drop the remainder of her cigarette onto the floor and stub it out with the heal of her boot. Looking over at the man in the corner who had started the conversation she decided to blow her own trumpet just a little more. After all she wasn't in the business of sitting around in café's for another year. "Getting cheaper arms is all well and good; who you sell them to is the issue. I never trust large cheap arms. I only deal in Military goods, and I only ever will - too much risk with the others. Just because I provide weapons to kill, does not mean I want to be the cause of harm." She spoke with her accented English, looking as the man opposite considered what as being translated for him. She waited patiently for his response to come through one of the other men next to him who acted as a translator for the conversation.

"Women generally don't want to think about blood." She had to stop herself from laughing, and instead just raised her eyebrows. From the look of the man he had not done much causing of bloodshed in a while. His hands were smooth, obviously moisturised daily to a degree which bordered on obsessive. His face was clean, and even though he was older than she, his appearance seamed immature and almost childish.

"It is not the blood which bothers me. It is the paperwork of a law suit – such a pain in my ass." And with that she stood up and left the men who understood what she had said to laugh. And as she went she pulled her coat closer around herself, and deciding it was way too cold to even consider walking she hailed a taxi home. She knew that she had definitely made her mark already.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we fly out today? We've no tickets or anything!" Stephanie said as she clumsily walked down the stairs, dragging behind her one of her two suitcases. With each step she went down, it made another clunking noise as the plastic wheels which held the weight of the case hit another step. From behind her Jethro watched as he carried her second suitcase along with his own duffel bag. He'd wanted to make some sarcastic remark but after how he'd acted lately he had decided – thankfully – that it probably wasn't a good idea.<p>

"Yeah Steph, Marrow said that there would be an agent waiting at the airport to give us them." She finally reached the bottom and heaved a sigh of relief. Jethro couldn't help but smirk at her slightly flustered pale face. He may not be head over heels in love with her – that was something that was making its self blatantly obvious. However he could not deny that she was a very attractive woman. And with the slight pink tinge that was making its way from her neck across her face contrasting with her light face, he found himself thankful that she was going to be there beside him. She might just manage to distract him enough to stop him doing something stupid or making himself ill.

"Are you _sure _we fly today though? I mean every time I talk to you the date has changed!" Gibbs smiled at her and placed both of the bags he was carrying down on the floor before walking over to her. The silver haired marine could tell that she was nervous; all she had done all week was ask questions about what she'd have to do. And he'd been reminded that she wasn't Jenny, she wasn't used to having to do things like this, having out of the blue plans thrown on her, in fact up until she married him she probably wasn't even sure that anyone actually had to do this.

Wrapping his arms around her small waist and pulling her closer to him, he looked down into her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, strands softly escaping and framing her face. "Yeah Steph, we go today." And she just nodded before resting her head on his chest. Gibbs was reasonably sure she was asking because if they weren't, then she'd be relieved.

Since the day they had spoken in their room, he had tried to be less of a pain in her ass. After all it wasn't her fault. But he was still scared for Jenny; he had only heard that she had made contact with the Russians, and nothing else. For over three weeks work that wasn't a lot of feedback. But he knew too, that when they had been undercover the amount of information they had relayed back to NCIS had been minimal. Now that he was on the outside though, it all seemed so much harder.

Part of him wanted to go and find her and soon as he landed in Moscow – a large part of him. He'd managed to extract the address of the apartment that she was staying at out of Decker. Gibbs wanted to find her and just take her away with him. But he knew that if he did that, not only would he risk her cover and her life, she'd probably kill him. Her going off on her own, doing an op with barely any back up, he was pretty sure it was her trying to show him she wasn't the little probie he had taken to Europe any more.

And it was working.

Stephanie pulled away slightly from her husband, and looked at his glazed over eyes. She still wasn't sure what her role would be when they got there. Other than that if anyone asked she was married to 'Leo'. When she'd been briefed by the director she'd overheard and argument between Marrow and a man that she was guessing to be his boss. All she'd caught was that by her going out to Russia, and being in on the op it was a big risk. That it could all go south so easily, and that it was highly unprofessional. "Jethro . . ." He looked down at her, watching as the cogs in her brain spun furiously and she tried to figure out the best way to phrase what she wanted to say. "Are you going to be able to see her?"

Gibbs pulled away and went to sit down on the bottom stair. He ran a rough hand down his face; rubbing his tired eyes and feeling his stubble lightly graze against his hand. She watched him, hand moving up and down her own arm with nerves as she waited for his reply. Although she didn't know the woman in question especially well, she obviously meant something to her husband – that was undeniable. And if she was hurt, then it would hurt Gibbs which would in turn hurt her. Jenny was the only person who managed to physically scare him, that was something that it had not taken long for Stephanie to figure out. "I don't know." He said, looking up, but at the door as oppose to at his wife. Thinking of the world that lay outside the house, of Moscow and Jenny; fending on her own. "If Tom or Will say so, then yeah. If she contacts me first; then yeah. But otherwise; no."

Stephanie didn't say a word; instead she just nodded and walked over, before sitting down beside him. Both of them scared about the mission they were about to participate in, but both for different reason.

* * *

><p>"So where are we staying? In the city?" Stephanie asked, they'd been on the plan for over two hours and her husband had finally awoken from his sleep at the smell of the food being handed out. He looked away from his cardboard box of food and over at his wife. She was trying to view this in the best light, he knew that. He also knew that her sister was currently cursing his name.<p>

"Nah, some village in the countryside. About half an hour from the city, small town, quiet, cottage thing I think." He tried to sound interested, but in truth he knew that the first thing he would do would be to attempt to set up the small amount of surveillance equipment he knew how to use – in the hope that he would catch a glimpse of his red headed partner in the city.

"Oh, well we should probably try and find a supermarket in the city so we can get some food. That way we could unpack tomorrow. It's probably gonna be a stupid time that we arrive anyway."

"Fine, 'long as we get bourbon." Jethro said and he began to eat his food with the plastic fork. They claimed it was beef hotpot, but he was slightly dubious. It looked more like a couple of stones in mud with some green mush at the side which was meant to be vegetables. It turned out that it didn't taste much better than it looked either. So he dropped his fork in the plastic container and took a drink of his coffee - attempting to rid his mouth of the disgusting taste. All of this made his wife laugh at his expense. Stephanie took a sip of her white wine and began to add one of the small squares of pre-cut cheese to a cracker and eat it.

Gibbs looked over at her meal, glaring at the crackers and her hot meal which looked like a baked potato – or at last more like a baked potato than his had looked like hotpot. She smiled kindly at him and he just huffed, placing the lid back on the container which held his make-shift meal. "How come you get that, and I get . . ." He didn't even know what to call the meal he had been handed.

"I told the Director to tell the airline I was vegetarian." She stated, smiling at him before sitting back and ripping open the package for her jacket potato. Laughing at her husband's scowl she passed him the potato whilst she carried on eating the crackers. He thanked her, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Once the meals were put away, she pushed the armrest between them up and rested her head on her husband's shoulder, snuggling up to him.

Jethro kissed his wife's head and then slowly fell asleep.

* * *

><p>When they stepped out of the very same airport that Jenny had just weeks before, they were greeted by the sight of dusk falling over the city of Moscow. The bare trees stood like silhouettes in front of the orange tinted grey sky behind of them. The shops were all beginning to close up, whilst cafes relished in the final flow of people stopping off for coffee and food before they braved the cold weather and travelled home to the warm housed that were waiting for them somewhere near or far.<p>

Gibbs held his own duffel bag along with pulling one of Stephanie's cases whilst she pulled the other behind her. Both stopped to survey the scene. For Gibbs it was surreal to know that he could only be mere streets away from his partner whom was lost in her own world of undercover. Yet he was that close and could not see her without someone else's say so. For Stephanie it was as though the reality of what was happening had finally hit. She stood her large suitcase up and did up her thick woollen coat, glad that she had chosen to pack and buy the warmest clothes she possibly could.

The red head looked over at her husband, as saw him switch to agent mode right before her very eyes. All of a sudden his posture straightened, and he tensed up, looking out on autopilot for any threats that he could see. Then, he looked at her and signalled for her to follow her husband – which she did without question. In the next few months or however long this thing lasted for Stephanie knew that if Jethro told her to do something then she would have to do it. It didn't matter what it was or how much she didn't want to do so.

Gibbs hailed a taxi for them, put her luggage in the boot and told the driver their address in perfect Russian. And so the long drive began to their home from home. And as they went, both watched out of their own windows as the cold city passed them by.

* * *

><p>She walked into the apartment, her healed black boots clip clopping on the hard flooring as she did so. The sun was setting over the city, and she could feel the butterflies returning to her stomach. The red head closed the door, locking all the bolts on the back of it and placing her back down on the wooden working top. Her eyes were instantly taken by the view over the river that took over the whole of the wall opposite her. Jenny paused watching as the sky visibly changed in colour before her eyes. As the planes took off, and landed, as the few birds that could deal with the cold weather flew in the sky.<p>

Shrugging off the blue jacket that had done its job of keeping her warm to a suitable degree, she placed it down with her bag and set about making herself a cup of coffee. Once the warmth of the dark liquid had travelled through the white porcelain, she picked it up and walked over to the seating area that took in the view.

Her cold hands wrapped tighter around the white mug, light pins and needles travelling through her fingers and palms at the sudden change in heat. Lifting the mug up to her face, she blew out through her lacquered lips, making waves of movement in the coffee. Her eyes watched at the small stream of steam rose up into the air. Curling and moving so elegantly before dissipating into the air it's self.

Jenny looked out, once more, of the window, thinking about Jethro and only Jethro. She knew he had arrived today, there had been a note on her napkin last time she visited a café. And today was that day. He was in the same city as her, but with his wife. Part of her wanted to call him – there would be no shame in it. There would be no shame on her if she chose to abandon this operation. But she wouldn't that was something she was certain of.

Placing her cup down on the coaster she walked over to her answering machine and listened to the automated voice tell her there were no messages. Sighing softly, she turned and put in one of the few CD's that Decker had provided her with. None of which fitted her taste. But anything was better than the lonely silence that filled the room around her.

And with her coffee back in her hands as she sat with her book on her knee ten minutes later, she still felt alone. But at least she was attempting to make the most of a bad situation. Until dawn that was, when she would once more have to use her assets to get her recognised.

But for now she would try to relax, safe in the knowledge that not far away her partner was settling down for the long haul of watching over her.

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><p><em>Reviews are appreciated greatly! <em>


	7. Rules are There to be Broken

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

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><p><em><strong>Rules are There to be Broken<strong>_

'_We all bleed red, all taste rain, All fall down, lose our way  
>We all say words we regret, We all cry tears, all bleed red<br>__Sometimes we're strong, sometimes we're weak  
><em>_Sometimes we're hurt, it cuts deep  
><em>_We live this life breath to breath  
><em>_We're all the same, we all bleed red'  
><em>_-Ronnie Dunn, All Bleed Red_

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><p>She supposed it had become her morning ritual of sorts. The way that every morning – even when she had no appointment to make – she would awaken at 0630, something that back in DC would have been a lie in considering she was usually in the office by that time. Then, Jenny would do fifty sit ups – or until the muscles in her stomach screamed so much she couldn't do another. After that she would lie on her back for thirty seconds before doing fifty jack knives. The red head had already decided that given the chance she would buy a punch bag and place it in the living area of the apartment. That might relieve her boredom on the days when she was supposed to be dealing with her clients. Something she didn't need to do as Decker was in charge of that side of her cover.<p>

Once her morning exercises were completed, and she felt as though she could happily curl back up in bed. She'd walk to the bathroom, strip and get in a boiling hot shower. So hot that the seam caused the mirrors outside of the bathroom to cover over in a layer of water vapour. So hot; that she had to hiss at the feeling of it first hitting her bare skin. Then, Jenny would dry her hair, and either straighten or curl it. Spend half an hour applying her makeup to the highest standard possible, and finally reward herself with a mug of steaming black coffee. That said coffee would be drunk as she stood looking out on the city below her. Watching the reflection of the steam raising up from the mug of dark liquid she held in her hands.

And that morning ritual was one she had completed that morning. As she stood with her coffee she watched over the city as she always did, she watched the ripples in the river as it travelled downstream. Bypassing the city, leaving behind it all the worries and fears that gave the city its dark atmosphere. Even at noon when the sun was high, the city was dark. The sky gray, and everything was doom and gloom. Moscow was depressing in the winter; that was evident to her after only being in the city for a short time.

It was no holiday destination.

People came to the city for business. To deal with their sister businesses, and rivalling opponents. They came to drink harsh vodka and get drunk. What they did not do was come to enjoy the beauty. Because whilst some of the architecture could take away some ones breath. Whilst the city was unique in the way that the past met so boldly with the present, old greying stone sat next to glass frontages.

No one came to Moscow, in the winter, for the fun of it.

Not now at least.

She placed the cup to her lacquered lips, and took a sip of the beautifully dark and strong liquid. Feeling the thrill of awakening, as the caffeine rushed around her body and her heartbeat momentarily quickened. Today was just another day, just another grind to try and prove herself to be good enough for the critics. Jenny had returned to the apartment yesterday to find a load of blue prints for weapons on the counter. _The Itinerary _read a sticky note on the top of them. They were what she could offer, and that was a heck of a lot. Everything from standard issue hand guns with a six bullet magazine, to machine guns only used in the harshest of war zones. Hand grenades, and RPG's, she could offer them all. And every single item was Armed Forces issue – just as her cover dictated.

It was the first sign that soon she might be getting to where she needed to be to play with the big boys. To get this mission well and truly under way and then get herself the hell out of Moscow and try and become Jenny Shepard again.

She'd made arrangements to meet with Yakov tonight in the bar where he had first approached her. He'd told her had had 'big news for her'. Something that could either end up being the making of the mission, or the thing she had been dreading which could break it down into a million pieces at her feet. Could pull apart her delicate façade and alias, that could be the final nail in her coffin. But that was something she refused to contemplate. She'd acted as painstakingly slowly as she knew that she needed to, in order to gain their trust, gain their respect, and hopefully gain entrance to the group of superiors that ran the circus. In the same way as they had acted the first time around – when it was her and Gibbs. Thankfully though, this time around she had a back story that they knew – mainly because they had been part of - to help her along and give her push forward that she needed to speed up.

So she stood there, watching over the city, thinking of the evening that was approaching. She'd chosen her outfit wisely, a more relaxed one than she generally chose. Something which she hoped would show him how relaxed she was around them now. Jenny wore a pair of grey, tight fitting trousers, with black leather zip pockets. On her top half she wore a baggy royal blue sweater that fell off one shoulder and revealed the lacy strap of her black bra. On her feet she wore the black louboutin ankle boots; her lipstick matched the red of the soles. Her hair was loose and natural, a mass of thick curls that made her look so much more dangerous.

Taking a final sip of her coffee she took the mug back to the kitchen and looked around her apartment aimlessly. Not knowing what to do with herself once more. So, her thoughts fell back Gibbs, as they seemed always to do so …

* * *

><p>He'd only been going to the city to get their next allowance of cash. Something which was a new initiative in order to attempt to cut back unnecessary costs – also known as the SecNav sticking his nose in. It was dusk in the city. The sun had long since moved under the sky line, but the sky was yet to fully turn to the pitch black thickness that took over it at night. Instead it stayed in a charcoal grey like state. There were no stars to light the sky; the moon was out of view, so the mellow orange light cast by the street lights was the only illumination. The shadows they cast were long and almost spread from one side of the road to the other. A road which was silent now, few people went out in the city after dark, not during the week anyway. So as he emerged from the old building which housed the bank, he found himself being the only person on the street. As he began to walk, he pulled the thick black woollen coat closer to his body, and flicked the collar up to try as keep himself warm.<p>

As he walked, slowly, he was thinking about many things. Thinking about Will and Stan who were back in DC, no doubt fully involved in the op themselves. Then, predictably he thought of Jenny, the red headed partner with whom he worked. And Gibbs couldn't help but wonder as to where she was right in that moment. In fact he was so caught up in his own world of thoughts, that he thought he saw he walk down the street. Her red hair blowing backwards in the wind, heels clicking on the ground to the beat of some song she was no doubt humming in her head. But then he blinked – a good ten times – and he blinked again.

And, even after all that blinking, there she still was. Only now she wasn't walking, instead she was opening the door to one of the bars. Her figure was perfectly silhouetted by the long camel coat. Her red hair contrasted against the pale material perfectly. His eyes were drawn to her, his jaw dropping as she disappeared behind the door and into the building.

The special agent didn't know how long he stood there for, all he knew was that by the time he realized he was still stood there, he had a thin layer of snow on his shoulders. Gibbs had known that he could see her, that just walking around the city caused a chance of bumping into her. But, he'd just thought that it wouldn't happen. He'd not even considered the chance that he would see by pure accident. But there she had been, write near him. Mere meters away. He ran a hand through his cold and damp hair, looking around the abandoned street. Once more it was empty, and the snow was falling, he'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't even realised that it had started. But the snow was of little importance compared to what he had just witnessed. As he thought about her, suddenly he forgot about everything that his head was screaming at him not to do, and the next thing he knew, he was opening the door into the bar she had walked into.

The bar was dark; he couldn't make out many of the features. There was a main bar, and then some booths around the edge, chairs and tables were in the middle, and it was basically filled with as many chairs as they could possibly get in. The radio played quietly in the background, although it was more just the sound of the static crackling than it was the sound of music. Unlike most American bars, there was no TV showing whatever sporting game that was currently being lost.

Gibbs walked in, and looked around the bar. Among the multiple heads of black or brown hair, it didn't take long for him to spot Jenny and her iconic red hair. He was all set to walk straight over, until he saw that she was with someone. She was leaning ever so slightly over the table, in a way that told him she was flirting. Whether she was flirting to for the fun of it – which he could not deny her the right to do, or flirting to get information he didn't know. And when he saw a man he recognised from the last op sat opposite her, reality finally struck him.

Gibbs realised that this wasn't finding her to be in the same holiday destination. That wasn't what this was for her – for him; it could be. If he wanted to go sightseeing, or take a flight to Amsterdam for the weekend then he could. But Jenny was here on business, she was here for the greater good of the United States of America. And he couldn't just go walking over to her and blow the entire mission.

He wanted to head slap himself, but Gibbs was aware that would draw attention to himself. So instead he walked over to the bar, stood in the dark corner, where he could watch Jenny, but he hoped that he couldn't be seen. The silver haired man caught to attention of the bar tender, and in flawless Russian he ordered bourbon. Unlike Jenny he had no cover to maintain, so he drank his preferred drink, and left her to the Vodka.

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><p>"Are you going to tell me what my surprise is, Yakov?" she asked him, hair falling over one shoulder, whilst he sweater slipped off of the other one. Jenny leant on the table, resting her head on her hand, and looking like a seductress in every which way possible. Her eyes looked down to her glass. She swirled the clear liquid around so that rose up the sides softly, and spun as it went. Taking a sip she looked over at him, and with a wicked smirk that made most men weak at the knees she said; "S'il vous plaît?"<p>

"You have made quite an impression with many people in this city Jullietta." Said Yakov, as he down his double vodka in one, and immediately ordered another. He drank the drink like it was water, something that Jenny admired. Whilst she could drink the harsh alcohol, she didn't particularly like it. Whiskey would always be her drink of choice, preferably bourbon when she was given the option. If she was honest Vodka was at the bottom of her preference, but it wasn't the worst thing. And because it fitted with her cover and gained her some respect; she drank it.

"Well it doesn't take much, mais, je suis le feu dans les rues." The red head said, slipping into flawlessly accented French without a second thought. She'd forever thank those people who had forced her to practice the language and learn it until she was faultless. Because of it, she now sat in a bar, doing something that most would think that she wouldn't be able to, and she was doing it perfectly. Being mysterious, without being too untrustworthy, and that was thanks to the language she had had hammered into her.

"I do not understand you're language, but I shall hope that it was something complementary, and leave it at that." They remained silent, as he thought about how to word what he was about to tell her. As he looked over at Jenny, he saw the way she looked around the bar, with a look that made him wonder if she wanted to be somewhere else. Moscow was a place of business, and she was definitely used to a different sort of life. That made him wonder what she was doing in the city. But he couldn't wonder, not on his pay check. That was something for everyone else to think about. "My bosses seem to think a lot of you, they have the opinion that you may one day be running this town."

"That is something that I am sure makes them choke on their words – we women are not really welcomed in the arms world."

"You may well be the frontier of change in this world then Jullietta, because they want a meeting with you. It takes most people years to get a meeting with them."

"Yakov, what does it mean?" she asked him, trying to make herself sound vulnerable. Even if she was the frontier of women in the arms industry, it didn't mean that the men still didn't want her to be vulnerable. So she put the act on, in this world, she couldn't just say how she felt with the ease that was allowed in America, she had to live up – or down if as situation may require – to their expectations.

"It means, Jullietta, that they want to do business with you. That's what you always wanted, isn't it?"

"Who wouldn't Yakov!" And she smiled at him, before downing the rest of her drink. Her eyes looked down at the empty glass, trying desperately to hide the smile on her face. Because it was a good thing – the best news – and it meant that she was one step closer to getting this op finished with and done. But the atmosphere didn't last very long, his next question broke the atmosphere into a million pieces.

"What would you say if Leo were here?" Jenny stopped dead in her thoughts and looked at him. She'd been so caught up in what she was thinking about that she didn't notice Yakov looking around the bar, she didn't notice his face turn cold and hard, his jaw clenching or hand fisting, as his eyes fell on the man who was attempting to hide in the corner. Now Jenny looked in his eyes, and saw coldness.

"I'd kill him, but there would be too many witnesses." She said, joking, but then she saw his face, saw what was in his eyes and she stopped. Suddenly her heart was beating a mile a minute, and all she could think of was Jethro's safety. "Yakov, what is going on?" _Her_ voice was hard now, the cocky and playful personality had gone out of the window, and now she sat there worried. Because _Leo _had only ever been mentioned a couple of times and on those occasions she'd been the one who generally spoke the dreaded name of a traitor.

"The traitor is sat in that corner, Jullietta. And I say this because you seem to be a lot a better without him. But you will have to choose him or the arms world."

"I'll choose the arms world in a heartbeat."

"Get rid of him Jullietta, before you lose everything you have worked for." And with that, Yakov stood up and left and Jenny glared over at her partner who was sat in the corner. And at that moment, Gibbs looked at her, and both of them were well aware that she knew he was there, and she was not at all happy. Her eyes were a blaze with anger, he could see her fist clenching under the table, and her posture becoming stiff.

It was as he looked at her then; he saw that she wasn't the young and naïve Jennifer Shepard he had taken out to Europe with him. No longer did she look up to him in such a way that he was her god. She would cover her own ass if that meant throwing his under the bus – or at least she would do so when it came to this mission. As he saw her stand up and nod discretely outside it finally hit him just how stupid of an idea it had been to follow her. To subconsciously try and make her notice him, want her to run into his arms like something from a cliché movie. He was suddenly aware of the fact that her companion had spotted him. That he had nearly made everything she was working for fall down around her feet.

He had nearly had her killed.

Something that he would never manage to forgive himself for if it went that far. Something, he knew that no one would ever forgive him for. So he did as he was told, he stood up, downed the rest of his drink in one, and went to leave the bar, giving it one last look before he did. Reminding himself that he had made it come to this.

Outside was cold, and the snow was still softly falling. There were shoe prints in the snow now though. As he exited he pulled on his coat, and pulled it tight around him to keep his body heat in. An attempt to try and stop him freezing his backside off. And then he saw it, the small amount of red hair disappearing down an alley. And with the same stupidity that had made him go in the bar just moments ago, he ran down the alley, and followed her.

Back in the bar she'd nodded at him to go outside, but as soon as she had gotten out there, she'd realised that if she came face to face with him then she wouldn't want to go back. Seeing the worry in those crystal blue eyes, the way his salt and pepper hair blew in the wind – she wouldn't be able to cope. Jenny would simply want to give up. So she walked away from the bar, hoping she'd be able to leave the thought of him there.

"Hey J-!" He nearly shouted her name, nearly shouted 'Jenny', something that he was sure she would have slapped him across the face for doing. But she did nothing; she didn't acknowledge his presence until he caught up with her and grabbed her arm, causing her to spin around. And that was when he saw her, up close, for the first time in what felt like a very long time. "Please, I'm. . ."

She looked at him, and a bitter smirk formed on her face as she looked at him. "You can't even swallow your god damn pride, and stop acting like John Wayne for two minutes even when you are in the wrong!" She stated, stopping herself from shouting as she harshly removed her arm from his grasp. And she looked at him dead in the eye, and she just wanted to cry. Because whilst she was over the moon to see him, over the moon to be looking in his eyes. Jenny was hurt, because he'd nearly risked her life, he was an agent – he knew the risk that did to her life – and yet he'd still done it. "You're an idiot!" She said, hissing, before she just walked away - but Jethro ran after her.

"Please!" He said and she stopped and turned to him, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I was stupid, I know, but I wanted to make sure you were safe!"

"So you decided to risk my life by doing that?!"

"Did you get out okay?" And she looked at him, before nodding, and sighing softly.

"Yeah, he told me to get rid of you." She looked in Gibbs' eyes as he nodded at her. "I'm in, I'm in and you're gonna have to deal with that."

"I'm glad –"

"I don't care Gibbs, I don't wanna see you again until the mission is over – end of!" And with that she stormed off, and left him gobsmacked. It wasn't that she felt that way – because she didn't. Jenny wanted him to be by her side more than anything. She wanted to return to that apartment and see him sat there on one of the chairs drinking coffee like she had done last time. She wanted to go back and have someone to moan at, wanted that flat to feel less like a cold prison cell. But she also knew that that was not a possibility. And Gibbs needed to know that too.

So she was being blunt.

Even if it did mean that she broke her heart in the process.

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><p>That night Jenny decided to walk home instead of calling a taxi. She was armed, and safe. If her name was as frequently mentioned as Yakov had implied that it was then no one would approach her. The red head found the river easily, making her way through a series of back streets without even thinking. And as she stood on the path that ran down the river bank, she stopped and looked out over the frozen city. Snow was been blown by the wind. Her hair blew back like a fire caught in the wind of the forest. White speckles landed in it, some melting and some not. And as she stood there, she wiped away a tear before it froze. The city was at her feet, she was about to walk above them all – straight to the top.<p>

And yet all she wanted to do was run. Run as fast as her Louboutin feet could carry her. Run away from this city, this country, this continent. Run back into the comforting orange walls of NCIS headquarters. Go back to her life with Will and Stan, with Gibbs before he married then they had that quirky relationship.

It's true what they say – that you never know what you have until it's gone. And as she stood there overlooking a cold city, no longer Jennifer Shepard, but not feeling like Jullietta either, she knew that she would do anything to go back in time.

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><p><em>Reviews please?!<em>


	8. French Seduction

**Disclaimer **_NCIS is not mine_

**Author's note **_I can only apologise for the delay! It really is unacceptable but I hope you stick with this. Just a note also, I have never been to Moscow and my only knowledge comes from Google maps, and the tv show 'The Americans'. So, sorry if it is not right._

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><p><em><strong>French Seduction<strong>_

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><p>'<em>I never wanna be the one<em>_  
><em>_Who kept you from being free__  
><em>_But girl I've gotta know what you want__  
><em>_'Cause I've taken all I can take__  
><em>_So just go if you wanna go__  
><em>_Stay if you wanna stay'  
>-Keith Urban, If you wanna stay<em>

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><p>"You honestly think I can hide a weapon in this dress?" Jenny asked with an evil smirk falling over her bright red lips whilst hands roamed her body. The dress in question made men go wild whilst still managing to appear professional. It was black, fell just above the knee and was pulled in at the waist. The skirt was tulip styled and hugged her curved whilst the top was clingy with cap sleeves. Her long red hair was straightened and fell down her back, contrasting boldly with both the dress and the royal blue coat she had had on before they had hung it up for her. On her feet were her favourite red stilettos, the ones she had worn the night she got her man whilst Gibbs was on honeymoon. The ensemble did exactly what she wanted – that had been obvious since the moment she had stepped into the vintage building.<p>

The outside was well maintained, the cream stonework frequently cleaned to prevent the exhaust fumes from greying it. The windows were reflective, meaning no one could look in. Not that they would dare to anyway. This was where she was to meet with the man in charge of the European arms ring. A man whose name no one knew. Who simply was to be called 'sir'. And as she had walked in, she had known she was in the right place. Everyone inside was male, each dressed in a sharp black suit with a crisp white shirt and black tie with a simple silver tie pin, each held one large black machine gun, yet she had spotted a smaller handgun each and every one of them – concealed at the base of their spine – and she guessed there was a third somewhere else on their person in addition to numerous knives.

But she, however, was completely unarmed. She had nothing on her, bar the gun in her handbag which had been taken away. So as she stood there being patted down by the security – a little longer than she needed to be patted down for – she was unarmed and defenceless. Stood in front of large white double doors each one wooden delicately decorated with carvings done to a standard that even Gibbs would approve of. She knew for a fact that he would touch the wood, admire the handiwork and no doubt make her feel like he needed a moment alone with the door. But to her, it simply reminded her of the man whom was somewhere else in the city. The man who was currently going about his life with his wife by his side. Who she had sent away over a week ago now, and not heard from since.

Finally they stopped their search, satisfied that she really wasn't hiding anything under what was almost a skin tight dress. And so she stood there, with her arms folded, waiting to be permitted into which ever room she was to be lead into. This was about to be the meeting which she knew most agents would kill to get. It would make or break this mission – but if she got it right, then the whole mission was about to slot into place. Was about to slip perfectly into uniform and she'd be able to walk right out of it when he trap had been set. And never step in Julietta's shoes ever again. Something, which was an incredibly pleasant thought right at that moment.

Jenny watched with a detailed precision as the men whispered to one another. A mass of men in black suites and white shirts, all black haired. One wore glasses, thick rimmed and harsh against his pale skin. Another had hair which seemed to be a little longer than that of the rest. Each one could be identified as a different person – but only just. They looked like soldiers, all moulded so that they were matching. She watched as the man with the glasses placed his finger in his ear, and listened to what she guessed was an earwig. Then he turned to two other men, one who was slightly less well built that the rest.

It those two men to walked over to her, and walked her through the double doors opposite, and then through a second single door. Then she found herself in a room that she guessed must look out over the rear of the house. It was decorated to match the old European fashioned white door; however all the furniture was made from dark stained wood with varying shades of blue fabric and cushions. The walls were painted in a colour which looked to be a mixture of baby blue and a light grey. The whole ensemble screamed male, it seemed like she was most likely the first woman to step foot in the room for a while.

It smelt like expensive cigar smoke, mixed with vintage scotch – which considering everyone in Russia only drank Vodka surprised her. But it was warm, and over on one of the walls was an open fire, logs stacked high in a copper drum next to it. The fire was lit and she wanted to walk over to it, curl up in a ball and fall asleep shrouded in warmth. But then she heard the sound of clinking as two glassed met, and her eyes were drawn to a man who was sat in one of two chairs which were separated by a dark wooden table. Topped with a cut crystal decanter of liquor, and four cut crystal tumblers to match.

"Personally I avoid Vodka at all costs, it's just so _plain_, it has none of the complexity that Scotch has." He said, but what surprised Jenny was the fact that he spoke French, and when he looked up, she found herself looking into the eyes of a man who was much older than she had thought he would be. She guessed in his late fifties to early sixties. He too – like his security – wore a black sharp tailored suit; however he wore a pale blue open neck shirt instead. His hair was died brown; however Jenny believed he would look a lot better if in fact he accepted the grey that was no doubt natural instead. All in all the man she was looking at was attractive for his age; he looked to keep in good shape. Jenny's agent skills allowed her to notice his lack of wedding ring, yet she did notice that on his right hand there was a gold band – one which resembled a wedding ring. Making Jenny wonder whether he was divorced but had not accepted the fact, or whether he was just trying to hide his personal life. Something that she believed would probably be a good idea in his cut throat world.

"Je suis d'accord." Jenny agreed in flawless French as she smiled over at the man. He nodded towards the seat and she accepted the offer to be seated. Both seats matched the style of the room. They were roll back chairs, covered in a blue fabric which was ever so lightly patterned. The feet were a dark stained wood, other parts of the chair was accented in the same choice. Once she sat down he handed her a generous dose of the Scotch, and she smiled in thanks. Pleased that for once she would not have to drink what she considered fire water.

"Salut." He said, holding his glass out towards hers, and she smiled once more replying with the same French greeting, and chinked the two glasses together before taking a sip and being hit by memories. Because it was the same scotch that her father had drunk when he was alive. The same one that had been kept in his glass decanter, in his liquor cabinet, in his office. The one that he had drunk whilst doing his paperwork, and the one he had allowed her to try for the first time on her eighteenth birthday when he handed her her present. That very same deep, strong and slightly spicy liquid just reminded her of him. "Now, I would like to congratulate you on the impression you have made. Especially on Yakov, he seems slightly smitten by you." He stated in French once more. The man's voice was deep, and gravely, but soft and gentle at the same time. It was a voice that she was pretty sure would manage to effectively make a child fall asleep in his arms, and yet could make a 13 stone man quiver in his boots if used in the right way.

"I met Yakov when Leo was still around; thankfully the sins of that man have not made others judge me on their behalf." She replied, once more in French.

"Now, I do believe that you have quite the distributive business. And my sources tell me that I would be stupid if I were not to make use of that." With that he placed his glass back onto the table, and refilled it, but chose to leave it there for the time being. Jenny was beside of him, contemplating her words carefully – not wanting to blow this rare chance.

"All the weapons I deal with are military grade, anything currently used by the military – in most said countries – I can provide, and as for slightly older weapons, I can make equerries. I did have a list however it seems that they thought that I may cause you a paper cut and kill you." She states, smirking slightly in her usual way. The man opposite, 'Sir' as he was called, seemed to contemplate what she was saying. And Jenny chose then to down the rest of her liquor, and place the glass down. Then she moved her long fiery red hair over her shoulder, and smiled. Her sinful red lips causing him to notice her. "I may not be a man, sir, but I do business a hell of a lot better than half the _amateurs_ in this city."

"I do not doubt that." He said, eyeing her cautiously. But Jenny did as she always did in this role, she got up and left him wondering and contemplating the woman he had been sat with. Getting up and leaving was something that no one ever did with this man.

However Jenny did.

Standing up, she smiled and began to walk towards the door. "You're men have my portfolio. I hope to hear from you soon." And with hat she left, adding a seductive sway to her hips she left the way she had entered. She walked out, grabbed her coat from where it had been left and grabbed her bag from the hands of one of the men who had kept guard of it.

And she went. Leaving 'Sir' sat with a smirk on his face. There was something about her that just blew everyone else out of the water.

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><p>A nock on the door made him look up, and there stood one of his men. He too thought they all looked the same, so much so that he could barely tell who was who – but with his position no one would be any the wiser, because no one challenged him. Maybe that was why he liked Julietta, because she didn't care about his power, about the number of men he had at his beck and call. He knew that if she didn't agree with him then she would very well tell him. And if she didn't like his offer, she'd probably walk away from it.<p>

"Yes?" He questioned in rough Russian. The man walked over, placed a wad of papers down and left the room without saying a word. 'Sir' picked them up, and smirked at the sight of the papers – guns, grenades, RPG's. Flicking through then he was pleased to see she had not exaggerated. Each weapon held a price on them, and the likelihood of availability. She was a lot more organised than most of the men he dealt with.

So picking up the scotch had took a sip and set about making a mental note of what was of interest to him. Analysing the papers with detailed drawings of each and every weapon on them, analysing the prices and deciding what he wanted to pay. The older man with his dyed hair stayed in that room for a couple of hours and a few more glasses of Scotch before he stood up. Softly he grunted at the feeling of his legs being stiff at the movement after being asleep for so long. But he made his way over to the door with ease, and opened it. He was greeted by a man with longer hair than the rest, and another who looked exactly the same as twenty other men who were in the building.

"Get me Yakov now." And with that he returned into the room, grabbed a pen and paper and set about writing down what his order may be. He might only have met her once, but that didn't deter him. Something in the eyes of that woman made him want to do business with her. Straight to the point, but at the same point there was a mystery. Like she didn't want to do this life, but did it anyway. So he sat there making his order, meanwhile Jenny Shepard walked down the streets of the city feeling quite pleased with herself.

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><p>Jethro sat in the living area of their accommodation, eyes once more glued to the screen desperately trying to catch sight of the red head whom was his partner. The redhead he hadn't seen since the fight, whose life he had nearly put at risk. Who he owed a hell of a lot when he thought about it. Stephanie was in the kitchen cooking their dinner, but he didn't say a word. In fact recently their relationship had become even more strained than it had before. She was scared and doing her best to be a wife to him and love him yet give him the space that she knew he needed.<p>

"Jethro." She said from the door. Dressed in a pair of leggings and a long oversized jumper, her figure was only show by the apron she wore which caused a jumper to be pulled in tighter as it tied around her back. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail from cooking. She knew she didn't look amazing, but that didn't mean that he should not notice her. Stephanie was beginning to get infuriated by her husband, she had tried everything and yet nothing seemed to work. She was stuck in the house, barely leaving it.

She'd thought that they'd take time out, at least venture into the city. But whenever he went, she didn't. The red head was well aware that he was scared of losing her – especially if someone noticed him and remembered that he was the man who had been beside Jenny the last time their aliases were active. But it was beginning to grate on her more than a little bit.

"Will you tear your attention away from that thing for just a minute and actually acknowledge your wife?!" She shouted, throwing a tea towel at him. Then he turned around and looked at her, his eyes wide with shock, he obviously had not heard a word that she just said. Something that was confirmed when he spoke.

"Yeah?" He questioned, and she just rolled her eyes, and was about to walk away, let it slide and stew in silence, but then something snapped inside of her. She decided that she couldn't remain quiet any longer.

"You know what?! _I_ came here for _you! _I didn't want to come, I didn't need to come, but I did. I'm here. And you're more damn bothered about Jenny the whole time. I get that she is in danger, but if you wanted to be with her then you should have damn well said!"

"Steph-"But she cut him off, tears were streaming down her face, she'd finally reached her breaking point, and she couldn't cope anymore.

"You know what? I'm sorry that you married me, I'm sorry I'm your wife. But if you wanted to marry Jenny then you damn well should have done!" And with that she walked back into the kitchen and slammed the door closed behind her as she did so.

Gibbs placed her head in his hands and sighed. Then he rubbed his eyes and ran a hand down his face. He knew he had been an idiot, knew that he had to sort things out before they escalated. But still he was thinking of Jenny. Out of the blue he mentally head slapped himself, turned off all the he turned off the security cameras and went into the kitchen. She didn't want him around – she'd admitted it. So he started to do just as she had said, he'd let her get on with the mission in her own way now. He'd save his marriage instead…

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><p><em>Reviews are welcomed with open arms!<em>


	9. Lipstick Rival

**Disclaimer-** _NCIS is not mine_

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><p><em><strong>Lipstick Rival<strong>_

'_If I'm right we're headed straight for hell  
>I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun<br>Wait by the door and light a cigarette  
>He wants a fight, well now he's got one<br>And he ain't seen me crazy yet.'  
>-Miranda Lambert, Gunpowder and Lead<em>

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><p>It was the same bar they usually went to, the one which he had first approached her in all those months ago. The one where the bartender had learn not to flirt with her if he knew what was best for him, where she had spotted Gibbs what now was three weeks ago. The one she was in now sat, once more opposite Yakov, with his dark hair and black polo neck sweater. A man who at first – back when she still had <em>Leo <em>by her side – had repelled her, however now he was a man whom she had come to trust. He'd been the one who got her noticed by his superiors, and she had no doubt in her mind that he was the one who had gotten her the meeting with 'Sir' two weeks ago.

The meeting she had decided to walk out of with her seductive swaying hips and a sinfully deadly smirk.

It seemed like she always wore so much makeup these days. Seamed like her long red hair was always either straightened or curled – as though she always made so much of an effort. Every night she would make her way back to that apartment, and the first thing she would do would be remove the layer of makeup. Step in the shower and curl up in her natural state. And yet even though she had considered leaving the apartment without her façade of makeup on, she never had. It was like without that layer of foundation, without the coating of mascara or the sweep of lipstick, she couldn't be Julietta. She didn't have the confidence to pull off the act.

As she sat opposite Yakov now, once more drinking the clear Vodka which she'd had watered down, her appearance was no different. Her hair was straightened, with the top few layers taken back into a couple of bobby pins. Her eyelids were covered with a light dusting of grey eye shadow whilst her eyelashes were defined by mascara. Her lips were accentuated by a pink lipstick, legs clad in black straight leg trousers, teamed with a pale aqua blouse featuring a stiff white colour. Jenny wore the usual camel coat and her Louboutin black ankle boots.

Her head was rested on her hand, and her eyes scanned the bar once more, watching the goings on. There was a couple in the corner, one she'd noticed a couple of times before. She only noticed them because of the woman, whilst everyone else in the bar generally had the palest of skin because of the cold and dull climate; this woman had a beautiful olive skin. Her hair was dark brown, and curly. She always dressed smartly – but never in a skirt. However Jenny had noticed her too, because of the way she always looked uncomfortable in what she was wearing. Generally, like she would rather be in less fitting clothes. Her partner – whilst he had pale skin – did not look Russian. His hair was a lighter brown, eyes a deeper almost chocolate colour which had an unusual warmth to them. Unlike his partner he looked at ease in the open neck shirt and jeans ensemble she had noticed he generally wore.

They were a strange couple though, they talked and laughed like they were supposed to, but they barely ever touched, and when they did it was short and just their hands. It reminded Jenny of a couple who were undercover, but she always banished the thoughts. Knowing that if she convinced herself that there were other agents nearby she would either worry too much and blow the op, or notice them too strongly and blow the op. She watched them subtly for a moment and then turned to look around the bar again.

The bar itself was generally only looked after by two people at most, as this evening was light on clients there was only the usual man behind. The bar it's self played host to a couple of men, all sat there staring aimlessly into their double Vodka. Most wearing a variety of formal business like clothing which gave her the impression that they had arrived at the bar straight from work. Choosing the silence of this place over wherever their homes were.

Sighing to herself she ran a hand though the ends of her hair and smoothed it down before turning at looking at her counterpart who was sat opposite her. She smiled at him. Whilst he had been the one to initiate tonight's meet up, he had barely said a word since he arrived at her table carrying his drink and took the seat opposite. That was something which she was trying to not worry about. Then finally he spoke, looked up from his Vodka and gave her a smile.

"It seems that even though you did walk out of a meeting with the most powerful man in Russia and Europe, you didn't burn all your bridges." She had seen him once since her meeting, although it was only momentarily, he'd caught her eye across the bar, and glared knowingly at her. She'd known then that he was well aware of just how her meeting had ended. However his work had kept him away, so for the last two weeks they had spoken not once.

"You didn't expect me to ruin my chances did you?" She questioned with a smirk on her pink lacquered lips. She once more took a sip of the vile liquid she was being forced to drink and then set the glass down, tilting her head and encouraging him to talk once more.

"I should have known you are smarter than that." He stated, downing the remainder of his own drink and catching the bar tenders eye for another. Then he turned to the beautiful red head who sat opposite him. When he'd first seen her back in his territory, he'd been wary. After all the last time she had been around one of the best arms dealers in Russia had been arrested. But there had been something about her that told him she was honest when she said that she and Leo were no longer together. That she had decided she could achieve more without him by her side.

And as he sat with her now, he was more than a little pleased with his own judgement. "I had my own meeting with 'sir'." The 'Sir' that Yakov referred to was of course the man whom Jenny had met with two weeks ago. Who had drunk the same whiskey as her father had done. "In fact since you met him it seems that I have had a couple." This caused Jenny to pick the corners of her mouth up in a slight smile towards the other man.

"Oh have you now?" She questioned with a slight wink of the eye. The thing about her relationship with Yakov was that she knew that whatever she said would not make him judge her. Similarly to Gibbs, he decided his opinion on a person based upon their actions as oppose to their words. It was strange in that way, because if Yakov and Gibbs could meet – without the knowledge of the others profession – she was pretty sure that they would get along.

"It seems that you have left quite an impression on him." Yakov said, raking his eyes over her body. Jenny hated herself for the way she played up to him, how she pushed her hair over her shoulder, leant her head back and laughed a little so that her neck was exposed. How she crossed her legs and accidently touched his. It wasn't that she found the man attractive; it was just that she knew it would speed up her mission. And in her heart, there was still a fire burning at the thought of leaving Russia and returning home. "He's not the only one either."

"And what kind of impression have I made?" She questioned. In recent weeks she'd noticed the subtle changes in the man opposite her. The one who had, at first, been a cold and hard to crack man, was slowly relaxing in her company. And that was something that pleased her, because it meant that Julietta was doing something right.

"He wants to do business." And with that, the flirtatious atmosphere was removed from the table, and she sat forward, knowing that they would speak in what was barely more than a whisper about work. However, that did not mean she didn't smile a little, because she did.

"Well that id always something that I like to hear." She stated, tilting her head once more. "You the one I'm working through then?" She asked, wondering if she would have to do business with Yakov because the big man himself would not do business directly. That was something which she had had to figure out how to accommodate into the mission. And she had managed to do so, but at the same time doing business direct would mean that he could be charged with so much more that doing it through a middle man.

"No, for the first time I've ever known, he wants to do business directly with you." Yakov stated, picking up the new glass of Vodka and downing it in one. Something that Jenny would always admire the Russians for was their ability to handle their drink. The Vodka was strong and she often wondered how they managed, but she had yet to see a Russian _acting _drunk. She'd seen a couple of them get angry in the street, but she'd never actually seen anyone acting in what she would consider a drunken manner.

"Well aren't I the lucky one." Jenny stated, drinking the remainder of her own Vodka. "When is the meeting to be?"

"You'll be told on the day – we can't have you planning an assassination now can we." He stated, smirking in a joking manner. And with that he stood up, and made his way out of the bar. Jenny sat there, and leant back in her chair, sighing softly in relief at the fact that she was in the clear. But also was getting further up the ladder. The red head let a small smile fall across her lips before she grabbed her back and shrugged on her jacket. Then left the bar.

* * *

><p>She never usually opted for the girly look – and whilst her outfit today would not be as 'girly' as some would classify, it was girly enough for her. The black of her tight pencil skirt was teamed with a lilac blouse which was covered in small white polka dots. The said blouse was loose fitting, the sleeved bellowed and it accentuated her figure. On her feet were a pair of Louboutin Daffodil shoes, in a mauve purple. The bright red lipstick that she usually wore had been traded in for a very pale pink, and her hair was tied up in a long ponytail.<p>

As she walked own the cold street, her camel wool jacket unfastened so that the breeze bit at her skin through the fabric, and her hair swung from side to side as she went like a pendulum. It was dusk in the city now, and the streets were filled with men and women heading home after a busy day. As Jenny walked, dressed formally for her meeting with 'sir', she blended in perfectly.

That morning she had been stood looking out over the city, when her mobile had rung telling her that the meeting would be that day. So Jenny had smiled, made sure that she knew every single weapon she could over off by heart, making sure she knew the years of production, years of use by the military – by _whose _military – and just how many she could get. Then she'd run over the price list a hundred times over. It was what she always did. Before they'd had meetings last time around, Gibbs had relaxed – slept – or tried to get her to leave the apartment and explore the city. But that wasn't how Jenny worked; she would sit with a mug of coffee, and read over everything. Read over every piece of paper like this was some big exam.

Jethro hadn't understood it at first, thought that she was stupid. But then he'd seen her in action, seen how all of those nerves that he'd watched her harbour in the apartment dissipated as Julietta arrived. It took a good few meetings before he understood that it was her mentally preparing herself for what was about to take place. But once he understood, he left her be.

That was a way of working that had never left her. When there was a big case in DC she was the same. They'd reach a dead end and she would read over everything again, and then she'd be the one to find what they'd missed.

The meeting was to take place at the rear of building she had first met 'sir' in. There was a small piazza where apparently he did all of his business deal. She wasn't sure just who would be there when she arrived, although she was reasonably positive that Yakov would make an appearance.

* * *

><p>The sun was out – a rare occurrence she had discovered in Moscow. Due to the appearance of the sun they sat in the Piazza it's self. The chairs were those black wrought iron ones, but thankfully they had soft white cushions on them. There were four of them who were sat down, Jenny, 'Sir', Yakov, and a man whom she had never met before, but whom she guessed was one of the men in charge of business deals. All four of them were gathered around a small table, filled with glasses of scotch curtsey of the waiters – who had appeared out of nowhere. Yakov and the business man seemed unimpressed by the scotch, but Jenny was thankful for it. Because the warmth it brought spread through her limbs and kept her warm.<p>

At that moment in time, the man whose name she was unsure of was looking over the specs for her weapons – she'd brought a more detailed list. And she guessed he was making sure that all the numbers added up. As he did so the rest of them were silent. Yakov was sat there gazing off into the distance; however Jenny was well aware that he was taking in every move she made.

'Sir' was sat looking up at the cloud covered sky. It was quite a beautiful evening in the city, and looking up at the sky she couldn't help but smile at the darkening blue and off white clouds above her. Jenny sat there, not worried about whether the information she had brought was right, Jethro had proof read it, and so had NCIS' firearms department. Between them nothing could be wrong.

The red head leant forward and took a sip of the scotch, once more loving the warmth as it spread through her body, beside her she watched the expression on 'Sir's face, as he looked at that sky. And she wondered who he was, wondered what his real name was, who he went home to of an evening and why he woke up every morning. She knew he was the target that she would be forced to bring down if the worst came to the worst.

She sighed brushed her bangs out of her eyes, wondering what he life would be like when she returned to Washington. She wondered whether Gibbs and Stephanie's marriage would survive the deep freeze of the frozen city, or whether it would be shattered and melt when they were America bound. Jenny wondered whether she would finally be able to leave the feelings that she had developed for Gibbs behind, and move on with her life. Wondered whether Stan and Decker would last on Gibbs' team much longer; or whether they would soon be offer that promotion that was just too good to pass off.

Whilst Jenny was in Moscow, living her life as Julietta, it felt like the rest of the world was on pause. Whilst the life of Special Agent Jennifer Shepard had been paused, so had the lives of all of those that she cared about. But in the back of her mind she knew that they hadn't. Whilst she was here, every day Stan and Will would be in NCIS working, managing her op, working on the cases that came in. And then every Friday night they would head off to the bar on base, drinking shots and forgetting about all the grief that they witnessed in the job. Meeting women, and meeting people who would change their lives.

Gibbs and Stephanie were dealing with their lives, working out how to live in a foreign country.

And yet she was sat there, barely even thinking about the life of Jenny Shepard, but instead the life of Julietta. Hearing a rustle of paper she looked up, her stream of thought broken. The papers that the unknown man had been looking through were passed to 'Sir', who then took out a gold plated pen – the kind which you spun the top of so that the nib became visible – and then began to mark out which ones he wanted.

There was silence once more, Yakov watched with interest, trying to see which ones were about to be bought. She watched him, and wondered once more about his life. The hard to read man who sat with her. Who obviously trusted her more than she ever thought that he would.

Once more silence fell over them all, but only for a few moments. Soon, the unknown man removed a piece of paper from his pocked and scribbled something down on it, before folding it in half and sliding it across the table, along with the marked sheets of paper. The man then said something in Russia, and without even a second thought Yakov instantly acted as a translator for her. Knowing her Russian was rusty at best. "He says that is his offer." The red head turned to Yakov and smiled in thanks before picking up the marked pieces of paper, and scanning over what he wanted then taking the piece of paper and with such elegance she flipped it open.

His writing was rough, written with sharp lines and rushed speed in black ink. The nib of the fountain pen had been pressed harshly into the paper so that there was an imprint in the paper that could be seen from the other side. Roughly she figured out what the exchange rate was, and figured out how many dollars the equivalent was. They all knew Julietta was French, so they'd written the offer in Euros, however that still meant nothing to Jenny. When she finally figured it out, she realised they were a good couple of thousand out.

So, she herself grabbed her bag, and pulled out a black parker fountain pen, and in dark blue ink she scribbled out what they had written, and added a bit more than she needed to to the existing price. Then she folded it once more, and with a smile slid it across the table. "Non." She said in French, before sitting back in her seat and crossing her legs.

The unknown man rolled his eyes, and took the piece of paper back. He rose his eyebrows, and shook his head, before writing a new price down. This continued to go on until they agreed on a price which was exactly in the middle – and actually more than the weapons were worth. When she saw the final bit she smiled, and nodded her head. "Hmm, oui." She stated. And Sir leant across, shaking her hand and smiling at her.

"Merci boucoup." He said to her, and she just smiled. "When will we urm . . . receive the good?" He asked, and she took a look at the list she had been given of what he wanted.

"I'll have to speak with a couple of suppliers, so the delay will be a couple of weeks. But I will put a rush on it." She stated, downing the remainder of her scotch. Then she looked over at Yakov. "I will tell you when I have a date. Then you can pass it on?"

"Yes." He answered.

"Bien." Sir stated, and all of a sudden, they all had a new glass of Scotch as the waiters disappeared with their empty ones. He took his glass, and swilled the auburn liquid around in the cut crystal, before he held out his arm, and lifted his glass. "Salut." And that was it, the deal was done, the op was well under way, and everything was at its peak.

The night had gone right, now all she had to do was get them to take the weapons, and her mission would be over. She could go home . . .

If only she knew what was to come.

* * *

><p><em>Reviews are greatly appreciated! <em>


	10. What They Don't Know

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own NCIS_

**Authors note: **_I'm so sorry for the delay! Please enjoy!_

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><p><em><strong>What They Don't Know<strong>_

'_Can we skip the part where you look in my eyes and tell me you apologise?'  
>-Cheated, Boys Like Girls<em>

* * *

><p>The sky was dark, pitch black, there was not a star visible, and the moon was hidden behind a thick black grey cloud which had lodged its self purposefully. It was the coldest day she'd experienced; the cold air had sat over the city dominantly for the last week, not budging even though there was a wind pushing behind it. The weather was so cold that every morning she had walked into her living area to find layer of mist over the large window which looked out over the city. One which was caused by the warmth of her modern apartment hitting the cold of the city that lay outside. And today, the weather was no better.<p>

A harsh wind had beaten down on it all day, causing whistles and battering to echo through the space she had been calling home. A sound which when she was about to have what would probably end up being the most crucial meeting of her life, haunted her. A sound which she had decided to drown out by listening to some of the CD's she was pretty sure that Decker had left there. And that was how she had gotten through the day.

Jenny was well aware of what she would have to do that evening. The plan had been given to her on a napkin when she was sat in a café the other week. Written in the familiar scrawl that belonged to Decker, the napkin had been burnt as soon as she'd engraved the details into her mind. That evening she would go to a disused dock yard on the river side at Rayon Pechatniki. The weapons would have been delivered earlier, and placed by the river wall. She knew what the number was on the cargo container, knew what she was to find inside – hell she'd spent enough time working with Gibbs and down in forensics to know if what she was looking at were the right things.

She also knew that there would be cameras watching her, but that the nearest back up support team would be a good 10 minutes drive away. When everything came down to it, Jenny would be on her own. If a situation was to arise then she would have to diffuse it. This is was it; this was the end of the op. And when Jenny arrived that night, it would be her last night in the city. Once everything was over, there would be a car waiting for her – one that would be dropped off outside of her apartment for her to drive to the docks. Then, she'd drive to Elktrostal to stay the rest of the night, and until she received the phone call which would tell her when she would be flying home, she would stay at the Etzm OAO Gostinitsa hotel. Once the call came in, she'd go to a private air field, and fly out of Russia, whilst Julietta would be on a total of 10 different flights to everywhere from Australia to Iceland.

That would be the end of her undercover operation-

-If it went to plan.

She stood at the window, looking out over the city that fell beneath her feet. Her hair was straightened perfectly, falling down with a flick at the end. The trousers were skinny legged, tucked into her black louboutin ankle boots, whilst her blouse was white silk. Around her neck was a silver tiffany necklace, and she wore the blue coat she'd bought on her stay. A large black shoulder bag that contained the few clothes she could take with her sat carelessly on the counter top in the kitchen. The rest of the apartment was just the same.

The plan was to make Julietta disappear off of the earth, then when a Jane Doe body turned up who resembled Jenny, they'd claim is as Jullietta, and bury her in a grave in France. It was a flawless plan, but it all rested on her shoulders, if she didn't manage to make this meeting work then it would all have been put together for nothing. Because she'd be outnumbered in a fire fight, one which even with Gibbs' training she would not be able to win.

If she didn't manage to make it work, then not only would it be the end of Julietta, but it would also be the end of Jennifer Shepard. And that was a thought that scared her to the bone.

The red head downed the small amount of bourbon that sat in the bottom of her glass. She'd picked up one of the miniature bottles that were designed for air travel. She'd tipped the whole thing into her glass so that she would have some Dutch courage. But as she walked back into the kitchen, and washed her glass, that shot of bourbon did not seem at all like enough. Instead it had just reminded her that the last time she was in this sort of situation she had had Jethro beside of her, and yet this time around . . .

* * *

><p>"Will you put that damn phone down for a moment and actually pay attention to our conversation?" Stephanie asked, almost begging as they sat on the comfy luxurious sofas of the hotel. After a couple of months of living a lie and the cracks slowly making their way into their marriage, they'd booked into a hotel. It was only a couple of hours ago that Gibbs had been informed that today was the day of Jenny's meeting. However when he heard that, it was too late. He was too far away from Moscow and Decker wanted him as far away as possible. If someone was to see 'Leo' with the police, Jenny's cover would be blown instantaneously. Even if it had wounded Gibbs' pride not to be there, he understood, the last thing he would want to do was to be the one to risk Jenny's life-<p>

-He'd nearly done that once too many times on this op already.

He looked up from the phone he'd had Stephanie teach him how to use. Decker had told him that he would call him if anything developed. Part of him wanted to receive that call, to know what was going down with his partner, but at the same time, didn't they say that no news was good news? He placed it down on his knee and looked over at her, sat on the sofa in an oversized thick knitted beige jumper and leggings. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail whilst she sat with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. Gibbs reached over to the table and picked up his coffee, before sitting back and looking at her.

"The op-"He began, but she cut him off. After however many months of sitting in Moscow listening to how worried he was about Jenny, she was pretty much sick of her. She understood that it wasn't easy for him – it must be a thousand times harder for Jenny. But it didn't mean that she was any less fed up.

"I know it all goes down tonight, and I get it – as much as I can – but Jethro, _please _can we just have one evening about us?" And he looked down at his phone, before nodding and placing it back in his pocket. Then he looked at her, took her hand, and nodded once more.

"How's your sister?"

* * *

><p>She picked up the keys to the black car that was sat outside, grabbed her bag, glanced one last look around the room, and then opened the door and left Julietta's apartment for the last time.<p>

The journey to the docks only took her around half an hour, and whilst she could have just followed the river she went the long way, getting her mind into business mode. Ready to deal with a group of misogynistic men who would be more interested in how she looked than how she did business. Jenny didn't know who was going to be there, she doubted that 'Sir' would be stood in an abandoned dock yard at night, but then again he didn't seem to be very bothered when it came to his safety. He just seemed to think that it was something to torment his security with.

The place was empty, but she still parked the car out of the way so that the rest of the men could easily park their cars, but so she could get out as easily as possible. Once the deal was done she didn't want to have to be hanging around alone. And as she got out of the car, that feeling was once more reinstated.

The area was completely dead; the only sign of life were the cargo containers which were dotted around. All varying shades of colours, some newer ones were brighter, older ones were faded and scratched to pieces. And as she stood there, the wind blew at a mile a minute, cold and harsh against her, so much so that the red head found herself fastening her jacket to try and keep warm. Once she began to walk, the place wasn't silent, her heels were clip clopping, and the sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

Her container was sat by the wall, a wall which was about .75 of a meter, and made completely of concrete – much like an ugly 1960's post war style. Jenny looked at the lock, and found it had been left unlocked, and she mentally thanked the forethought of NCIS, because it would probably have blown her cover in the way that she did not have a clue how to open the damn container.

So she pulled out the wrought iron Alan key metal rod type thing, and opened the thin doors before looking at the boxes of weapons in front of her. The thought of all of the damage and pain they could inflict made her feel cold, made her hairs stand up on end. She walked into the container, opened the tops of some of the wooden units and checked what was there was what was mean to be there. When she was happy with her stock, she exited and stood by the wall.

Her arms rested on the top of the concrete, and leant against the structure. Watching the plain black sky, trying to catch sight of a star peeking out from behind a cloud. But her attempts were feeble. The wind blew her hair all over the place, making the smooth and flat style become a lot less elegant. But she didn't really care how she looked. Her eyes were already watering because of the cold, and when she heard the sound of a car she all of a sudden felt even colder. All of a sudden she just wanted to run, run away from this place, from everything that was taking place, and everything that was about to down.

"Julietta."

And with that one word, said by a familiar voice, she knew it was too late to run. She was in this too deep to escape now. Turning around she found a group of men walking over. Among them was 'Sir' – something which would mean they could straight out arrest him when she was gone – and Yakov. Part of her had hoped he wouldn't be there, that he would not have to be arrested. He was probably the only thing that had actually gotten her through this hellish mission.

By the end of the evening he would be arrested though, and that was a fact that Jenny had to accept, she may well be representing the law, but she did not get to dictate it.

She smiled, and walked forward, giving Yakov a smile as she did so. Then they shared pleasantries. Jenny would not walk out of the docks will the Euros - that would have been a stupid move. Instead half had been transferred into the account already, and the other half would be transferred after they had received the weapons. Meaning that she was not in charge of actually handling cash.

"You have the weapons?" Sir asked her, and she nodded, smiling sweetly before running a hand through her hair and walking over to the container. The wind had blown the metal door closed, so the men opened it, and she waited outside whilst two men – whose names she did not know – checked over the goods. "You've impressed quite a lot of people Julietta. And now that Leo is not holding you back, you have the world at your feet." Sir said, reverting into French, something that took her a moment to adjust to.

"I am glad that my mistakes are not shadowing over me. Leo, he was _my _mistake, I should never have trusted him."

"They're all fine." A gruff voice said, as they all emerged from the container, and Yakov approached them both.

"Good." Yakov said, and Jenny handed him the Alan key, smiling.

"It was good doing business with you." Said Sir, once more in French, and whilst Yakov placed a padlock that he had kept hidden on the container, the rest of them men went away.

"What will you do now?" He asked her, and she just smiled, unable to quite believe that after so many months of just wanting to escape, she would actually be going back home.

"Lay low, calm down, and then do whatever takes my fancy." She said, smiling softly. "I'll follow my gut." And that was something that Gibbs would be pleased to hear, but something that had no emotional bearing on any other person.

"Good luck Julietta, I hope we shall do business again someday?" And with some miraculous façade she managed to look unaffected by that statement. And she nodded, smiling once more, still slightly unable to believe that everything was about to be over. A welcome feeling.

"So do I Yakov." She hugged him, but it was an awkward hug, they'd never really had that sort of relationship. It had always been the type which was professional, but could have turned into a one night stand at the flick of a switch. However, emotions and feelings had never come into it, and it was something that she was definitely glad of. Simply for the reason that it made everything a heck of a lot easier.

With that, Yakov turned around, walked to the car, and drove off.

Standing there, with the wind blowing her hair like wild fire catching in the wind, feeling like an ice cube, she smiled. But it wasn't a smile of happiness; it was a smile of relief. Because all she had to do now, was drive to the hotel and wait for the call.

Jenny ran a hand through her hair, looked over at the city, and felt no remorse for leaving like she had when they left Paris. Instead, she walked to her car.

However, she didn't know what was about to happen.

* * *

><p>"Okay, so what happened next?" Stephanie asked, laughing at Jethro as he recounted a story about Jenny as a probie. Both had been drinking, Jethro was on bourbon whilst she was on wine. Now they were finally relaxing, and it felt a lot more like it had at the beginning of their marriage, before the whole Moscow fiasco had begun.<p>

"The guy jumped into the sea, and pulled her in with him. By the time I got there, the guy was on the pier, and she was stood over him pointing her gun at him – dripping wet!" He smirked at the memory. "I got there; she glared at me, walked over, ripped the jacket off of my back and stormed away. The guy on the floor was sat there smiling at me; she'd been in a white top!"

"The-"

"She slapped him in interrogation – Tom turned a blind eye."

"Did you get your jacket back?"

"No, I asked for it once – she told me that she'd leave me it in her will."

XXX

In that moment, not Stephanie and Gibbs sat laughing in a posh hotel, nor Jenny on her way to the car, not William Decker or Stan Burley who were back in MTAC in the US coordinating the op, not Tom Marrow who was bragging about the op to other agencies – none of them knew what was about to take place. None of them knew what Jenny was about to experience, none of them knew how worried they were about to become-

-but very soon they would.

* * *

><p>She opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat of the black car. And as she closed the door, felt the temperature physically rise, she sighed. Leaned back against the chair, closed her eyes and ran a hand down her face. Blindly she took her bag off of her knee and placed it on the seat beside of her. Sitting forward she ran a hand through her tangled mass of red hair, and flipped down the mirror. Leaning across she fumbled around in the bag until she found her lipstick, then using the mirror applied a coat in one smooth movement, before replacing the colour and placing her keys in the engine.<p>

And that was the last thing she remembered doing.

Behind her a man in black leant forward, his eyes had not left her since he got into the car when she was still outside. Taking the gun off of his lap, he wrapped his tanned hand around the barrel, and then he leant forward. She barely even had time to realise she was not alone before everything went black.

The butt of the gun collided with her skull hard, causing her to lose consciousness almost immediately. There was no blood splatter, but vaguely visible amongst the red curled was the sight of a red liquid mixing with them.

When the red head finally regained consciousness, she was not even in Russia anymore. In fact, she didn't know _where_ she was. All she did know, what that she was far away from home, far, far, far away from home.


	11. Desert-ed

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Desert-ed<strong>_

'_You know I've had close calls,  
>When it could have been me,<br>I was young when I learned just how fragile life can be,  
>I lost friends of mine,<br>I guess it wasn't my time,  
>Timing is everything'<br>-Garrett Hedlund, Timing is Everything_

* * *

><p>"Who the hell even is she? You were meant to get to get 'sir' – we could have profited out of him! Instead you get some leggy redhead who we will get nothing but a couple of hours of fun out of!" His voice was brisk, stern, and the words came out in harsh Hebrew laced with venom. The man speaking had dark olive skin, eyes which were deep and mysterious; his hair was hidden by a faded scarf which was wrapped around it and his neck to protect his skin from the glare of the sun even in late winter. His clothes were sand coloured to blend in with the monotonous scenery which shrouded them. He wore warn, dirty and creased clothes which matched those of all the other people who were busying themselves around the unfurnished room.<p>

"She is a federal agent; we hacked the server and found her undercover as an arms dealer in Moscow."

"You have not answered my question!" The other man was younger, probably only in his late teens, his eyes were wider and more prone to fear, naivety. But his appearance mirrored that of the older man, the only different was that the younger ones clothes hung loser as though they had never even belonged to him.

"Jennifer Shepard, NCIS-"

"The agency building relationships with Mossad?"

"Yes, she's the one who they nominated to be the head of relations." The Hebrew had softened now, it was no longer sharp and hurtful, instead it was hushed and whisper like as they discussed the matter at hand.

"Maybe she isn't _completely _useless after all."

* * *

><p>He hadn't checked his phone all evening, partly because he had been trying to resurrect his marriage and partly because he couldn't find it. Something he was reasonably confident in blaming his wife for. So by the time he discovered just what had taken place at the meeting that Jenny had had, it was morning, and all hell had broken lose on both sides of the Atlantic.<p>

The sun was peeking through the window, reflecting off of the frosted country outside and into the room through a gap in the curtains. Inside, Stephanie and Gibbs lay curled up in the bed, covers resting around their waists. She was asleep, but something woke him in a startle – his gut churned. In the same way it always did when he knew something was wrong.

The silver haired fox looked at the mass of red hair that was sprawled across the white of the pillows. Each corner of her mouth was turned up a little, as though she were having a pleasant dream whatever it may be. He reached across and moved a stray piece of hair away from her eye, watching as she scrunched her nose up at the feeling before turning over and facing away from him.

Jethro sat up, placed his bare feet on the soft carpeted floor before noticing his mobile was sat on the bedside cabinet. He smirked his signature smirk, before picking it up, tapping a few buttons before realising that it was turned off. It took him a moment, but eventually he found the red circle which turned it on, and just as he had been taught he held it down until the screen came to life.

As soon as he saw the number of missed calls and text messages he knew that something was wrong, _knew _that something had not gone right. Standing up he grabbed his pants and jeans before walking away from the bed and into the bathroom as not the awaken Stephanie. Then, he looked closer, and saw Decker's number take over the screen. "Gibbs." His voice was gruff as the silver haired fox answered the call, it was filled with tiredness and wariness as to what he was about to get told.

"Jesus Gibbs! We've been trying to get a hold of you all night-!"

"What's happened?" Will knew that if Gibbs didn't answer then he was busy, so the fact that he hadn't stopped trying to get a hold of him meant something _had_ happened. He sighed, leaning against the cold sink so that it dug into the base of his spine and running a hand through his bed ruffled hair.

"How long before you can be in Moscow HQ?"

It took the agent a moment to think, realise where he was. "An hour, maybe two?"

"Get your ass in Gibbs."

"Will, what the _hell _is going on? Is Jen okay?" He hadn't been able to help it, her nickname had slipped in. The memory of his red headed partner waking down that alley all those weeks ago, heading off on her own out into a foreign city – it haunted him.

"We don't know Gibbs. Our cameras say she got away clean, the car left on schedule-"

"-Will!"

"She never checked in at the hotel."

"Are you positive?"

"A whole team went Gibbs! Checked every damn room, we found her car this morning. There was blood on the seat but other than that nothing."

"Dammit!"

"Get in Gibbs, that's an order from the top." And with that William Decker hung up, leaving her partner stood in the bathroom of the hotel, his sleeping wife on the other side of the door, not knowing what to do. The only thing he did know what that he should have been there, he _should _have been watching, waiting for her. To congratulate her, then maybe she would have been fine, maybe . . .

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><p>"What did he say?" Tom Marrow stood next to William Decker in MTAC, both had not left since the mission was due to be resolved. Will had been in charge coordinating the search whilst Marrow informed everyone that he needed to. As he began to call in favours all in the hope that it would help to find the red headed agent. To them she wasn't <em>just <em>another agent. Sure, she had been told that she'd be on her own if it went bad, but no one would let her go down without a fight. Jenny was the kind of person who without even trying managed to worm her way into their hearts.

The SecNav was even on their side, it was a case of find Jenny Shepard – at any cost. And that was what they planned to do. Stan Burley was on a flight to Moscow; Gibbs was on his way back to Moscow. And the pair of them stood there, knowing that there were a lot of people who would not cope if she didn't return.

"He'll be in Moscow in just over an hour." Will ran a hand down his face and made his way over to the seat he had previously been occupying. When he picked up his cup of coffee he found it empty, and chucked it in the bin with aim that a basketball player would be proud of. "He blames himself, we all blame ourselves."

The director sighed, and looked at the satellite view of Moscow once more. When her car had been found earlier, it had been the only confirmation that something had gone wrong that they needed. But both Will and Tom had decided that there may just be more to this than the op. Jenny had gotten out clear, hell she'd _hugged _one of the men. So where did it all go wrong? When did it go from a clean exit to whatever this was? Was it a jealous business partner? A last minute screw over?

"We'll find her." The Director meant to sound reassuring, but instead his tone mirrored a prayer. He'd seen this happen so many times, agents getting abducted, held hostage, kidnapped, but only a handful of times on foreign soil, and never to this degree – or under these circumstances.

"It's been too long already."

"Agent-"

"I need coffee." And with a Gibbs like swagger, he walked away, out of MTAC and into the brisk winter air of the city. Coffee was an attempt to keep him awake; the fresh air was to sharpen his senses. But instead, all he could think about was Jenny, was how long she'd been in Moscow for. He and Stan had been over the moon when they heard she was coming back. They'd planned to have a party, to celebrate her return with drinks and stories – nothing _special _but special.

And now, that might not come, he might not-

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><p>The door to the bathroom slammed closed behind him, he didn't care if he woke Stephanie. The shower had been nowhere near hot enough, even if it was as hot as he could stand it. The water had done nothing to clear his head, even when he'd turned it to cold. His only though had been Jenny. It was too long since the last sighting, too long since they found the car.<p>

She could be anywhere, and they were not even off of the start line yet.

"Mmh, Jethro!" He voice was soft and laced with sleep as she rolled over and grumbled. However his lack of apology as he unzipped his bag to get a shirt out must have caught her off guard. She sat up, rubbing her face and pulling the covers up around her top half so that she remained modest even in front of her husband. She watched as he pulled his polo shirt on; saw the tenseness in his muscles. "What happened?"

"Get up, we need to get back." He was already packing away everything, checking his phone every other second as though it would unlock the secret to whatever was going on. But she wasn't going to do anything until she knew what was happening. Her long fingers ran through her tangled red hair, and then under her eyes to remove any black smudges left by her makeup.

"Jethro, what is going on?" Her voice was soft, but there was a sharp undertone to it that made him stop and look at her. That was when she saw his eyes, the blue that she so loved was cold, yet his irises were abuzz with emotion, he looked like his heart had been shattered. No matter how much she had hated the other women in the last few months; she knew that there was only one person who could do that to the hard as nails marine. "Jenny."

"She never checked in-"

"maybe-"

"They found her car, there was blood, and she is nowhere to be seen."

He turned around after that, and Stephanie didn't need to hear anything else. An hour later they were nearly at headquarters, and barely another word had even been muttered. Stephanie sat beside her husband, her stomach churning, and hands shaking. Even though Jenny held a place in Jethro's heart and not hers, it didn't mean that she was any less scared for her.

But it was partly on a selfish note, because if Jenny didn't come back alive, then she knew that she would never get Jethro back. He'd change; distance himself even more until he barely spoke to her. Jethro wouldn't be the man she had married; he'd just be the shell of a great man who had lost too much. And as much as she loved him, she wouldn't be able to live with that.

So, as she sat in the car, she prayed. Stephanie prayed that Jenny would turn up unscathed – for everyone's sakes.

They pulled into the roadside parking space, and he killed the engine. NCIS Moscow HQ, was nothing much more than a terrace house. And as they sat there, neither one moved. Jethro looked down the street which consisted of ground floor shops and cafes; all with upper floor flats for the owners or lets. Their headquarters was one of three residential looking buildings on the street. Gibbs sighed, thinking of what Jenny must have had to have deal with lately, being in this city alone.

"Jethro?" Her voice was soft and hesitant, her hair was a mass of tangles all tied up in a bun, still damp from her quick shower before they'd left, whilst her face was free of makeup due to lack of time over preference. He didn't answer, instead he just looked at her, but his blue eyes looked a million miles away. She took his hand off of the steering wheel and wrapped her own smaller one around it. "Just remember I'm here, okay? I'm here to help you Jethro."

The silver haired agent never answered though; instead he just turned and looked across the street, bombarded with memories of a different city, on a different op, sat next to a different red head. Memories of him and Jenny getting coffee from street vendors, laughing and joking-

-he'd been a different person back then, or at least he'd felt like one-

-Memories of them talking, acting like a couple. Their act had been so good most people were never sure whether it was an act, or whether they maintained being a couple even behind closed doors. No one would have blamed them either, because when they were doing what they were doing . . . But however hard it had been, it never was anything more than an act. Sure, from time to time after a hard day and a harder night on the drink there are been more than a couple near kisses. Yet they were only ever _near _kisses.

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><p><em>She hadn't even had her meeting with Marrow yet, hadn't even gotten past the agency security when she first saw him. In fact she was stood there moaning at the man behind the desk, as he once more asked just how 'Shepard' was spelt. And she once more told him with not even a hint of frustration in her voice. When the pass was slid across the desk she took it gratefully and was planning on speedily walking away. That was when she saw him. <em>

_Salt and pepper hair, coffee in hand, dressed in a way which managed to be just as professional as was required whilst seaming completely and utterly relaxed. He walked with strength, superiority almost. And the way everyone looked at him, it was a look of respect mixed with . . . fear? _

"_Where you heading?" She was stood next to him, the salt and pepper man. _

"_Directors office." She answered, watching as he took in her appearance. The startling red hair: constrained in a partial French plait, tied on her shoulder and then cascading down one shoulder in natural curls. A pale blue blouse and a pair of fitted black jeans all finished off with a pair of heels which he was pretty sure she would break her ankle in if she were to walk up the stairs. Then there were those green eyes-_

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><p>"<em>Get me Agent Gibbs." The director spoke into his intercom to his secretary, who replied curtly with 'yes sir'. She sat opposite the man who was her boss, and she fiddled with her fingers, twiddling her thumbs as she waited, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she sat there. <em>

_His office was large, with a large window giving a panorama view over the Navy Yard below, from where she was sat she could see men in uniform coming and going. She could watch the goings on of their Navy from the comfort of a warm office and comfy chair. _

_The door banged open as it hit the wall, and she guessed this must be 'Gibbs', and from his lack of manners she guessed that this was going be a long, long, time on his team. Yet when she turned around and looked at him, she was met by familiar blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. And from the smirk on his lips – a make-your-knees-go-weak smirk – she knew that he recognised her as well. _

"_Special Agent Gibbs, meet your newest team member, Jennifer Shepard" But at the words 'team member' his face changed, and his eyebrow rose up, once more taking in her appearance. Then he turned around, and walked away, and she raised her own eyebrows. _

"_Not in those shoes she's not." And with a smirk on her own lips, she walked after him – maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all._

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><p>"Wake up!"<p>

A pain shooting through her abdomen shook her involuntarily awake. Her first sensation was the pain, and she wondered what the hell was going on and why someone had just kicked her. Then, she realised she was sweating, that the air was thick and muggy – that the air was warm. She wasn't in Moscow, she had _been _in Moscow. At least, the last thing she remembered was being in Moscow, the car, and then-

The floor was hard, and her face was raw from small cuts caused by the concrete. But there was sand on it too, and it felt like she was submerged in it. Her senses were on fire, the smell of burning, of sweat and tinned food, of gunpowder. But she could hear nothing much other than muffled sounds of shouting in a foreign language.

The red head tried to move, but her legs and arms were bound with plastic, something that meant she's only cut herself if she tried to get out of the restraints. And as she tried to move, her head hurt, it stung and she felt like she was going to be sick with nausea.

"Up!" He said it in English, but it was heavily accented. Jenny didn't move though, so they grabbed her now filthy white blouse and pulled her onto her knees before dragging her out. But the sheer pain of her head and now her abdomen meant she didn't even make it out of the room before she passed out.

Once more, everything went black.

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><p><em>Reviews are greatly appreciated, so please leave me one :D<em>


	12. Pray for me

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

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><p><em><strong>Pray For Me<strong>_

'_Tout le monde a des restes de rêves,__  
><em>_Et des coins de vie dévastés,__  
><em>_Tout le monde a cherché quelque chose un jour,__  
><em>_Mais tout le monde ne l'a pas trouvé.'  
>-Carla Bruni, Toute Le Monde<em>

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><p>He didn't even say another word to Stephanie once they were inside of the small building that housed NCIS headquarters. It always felt strange when he visited a foreign headquarters, because it seemed as though DC was the only place where the building had NCIS written in large letters above it. Everywhere else he had ever visited seemed as though no one wanted anyone to know they were there. Los Angeles was a hidden headquarters, and they always moved every couple of years, Paris was a little less cloak and dagger, but there was no glaring lights telling everyone they were there, and now Moscow.<p>

Yet with every headquarters though, when a foreign agent walked in, everyone instantly pulled up their service record so that they knew just who was walking amongst them. It was in the same way that there was a familiar buzz among agents, a buzz of caffeine fuel, of devotion to the victims, and fear of not catching the culprits. NCIS always had that sense of generations old loyalty to their armed forces. The fact that that loyalty was evident even in a foreign country was something that surprised Stephanie as she walked behind her husband. The redhead was amazed at the fact that most of the agents were speaking English, that everything almost had an American feel to it – like they'd just picked up the room and placed it down in a different continent.

The bull pen they were in was smaller than the one they were both accustomed to in DC. The walls were bare of the bright orange paint that someone in their infinite wisdom had decided to cover the American walls with. Instead here, they were stripped back to the bare brick work. The dividers were curved and grey, almost cocooning each of the four teams. The staircase was in the middle, and similar to the one that led up to MTAC and the Directors office back home. Except this one lead up to only one door, and there was no catwalk. On the staircase was a woman. Her hair was dark brown, yet Stephanie could tell it was died from the natural black roots which were only slightly visible with the naked eye. Her image obviously meant a lot to her, because even her eyebrows were died to keep the black at bay.

She wore a pair of baggy black trousers, with a tight red granddad styled top. Her shoes were black, only the toes peeped out from under the fabric of her trousers, but it was enough to tell Stephanie that they were expensive, and about as impractical for her job as the ones that Jennifer Shepard insisted on wearing. Shoes, that had been one of the first things she had noticed about her husband's partner, second only to her red hair that was brighter that her own. Stephanie remembered the smile that was on her husband's face whenever he spoke to her, she remembered how if she had not been holding Jethro's hand at the time she would have thought that it was the two work partners who were dating, and not her and Jethro. But the other woman had never crossed that invisible line, Jenny had stood far enough away to not impose, yet close enough to tell everyone that they were friends. To tell Stephanie, that if she wanted Jethro, then she'd have to accept his partner as well.

Those shoes that had made her envious of her man's partner, the heeled black shoes, which had in no way been anything extraordinary. But, that had been stunning, simply for the reason that they made her legs go on forever, and her curves seem even more enviable. Stephanie could not remember what Jenny and Jethro had spoken about that day, she'd not listened, instead she'd just realised that Jenny held an almightily piece of her now husbands heart. A piece that would never be her own to keep.

Gibbs walked towards the woman, who held out her hand and introduced herself as being Special Agent Alina Ishutin, the daughter of a Russian nurse, and an American marine, but a woman who had been raised solely by her mother and knew nothing of her father. She was bilingual in Russian and English, spoke enough French to get her by, and was relatively competent in Hebrew. None of which Gibbs knew, just like he did not know the fact that she was the best agent NCIS had this side of the Atlantic. Because all he saw was someone who would follow regulations and get in the way of finding his partner.

The American agent ignored the hand outstretched, and Alina managed to look not in the slightest bit bothered. She smiled politely, at Gibbs and at Stephanie, with her big brown eyes and thick lashes, through thin lips covered with the palest of pastel pink lipstick. "You found her?" He asked, not bothering to even state his name, or accept what hers was. Instead he ignored something called pleasantries, and instead, barged right in like a bull in a china shop-

-Something that once more reminded him of Jenny and just how she would describe him.

"Agent Gibbs, it is not that easy. We're working every angle." Alina replied, in English that was only subtly accented to the ear. "Director Marrow is on the screen for you." And with that she walked back up the stairs she had come down, before she and Gibbs disappeared through the door at the top of the stairs. A mysterious silver metal door, leading to a brothel as far as Stephanie knew.

She stood there in the middle of the staircase, looking around at the agents. She felt like such an outcast, and could hit Jethro for simply forgetting that she even existed. Sighing she walked down the stairs, and decided that she would go in search of the break room. However that would only happen if she could get someone's attention, which proved harder that one would believe.

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><p>"Jethro, glad you could finally make it." Tom Marrow, the director of NCIS, said over video call. The mysterious black room was surprisingly not a brothel, but instead their version of MTAC; Neskol'ko Tsentr Otsenki Ugroz. It was smaller than the surveillance room Gibbs was accustomed to, in fact it was probably only a quarter of the size, there were no rows of black leather seats at the back to sit on. Instead it was literally filled with a few computers, and a large screen.<p>

The silver haired man gave a glare to the screen where he could see his smirking boss. He was by no means in the mood to joke; even if it was all in a good sense, in fact he was very close to grabbing something and throwing it just to relieve some of his anger which was about to boil over. Anger at the agency, because how could they have let this happen? Anger at Will, because she had been taken on his watch, but most of all the anger was directed at himself. In Gibbs' mind, none of it would have happened if he had been there, if he hadn't been sat in some plush hotel with his wife laughing and drinking coffee and bourbon.

"Stan is in the air Gibbs, there has been a delay, but he'll be there soon. We're pulling nearly everything that exists, I'm pulling in favours – we're doing _everything_ we can." Tom said, looking at his best. "Agent Ishutin, do you have an update for me?"

"Yes sir, we have agents asking about sightings, and pulling all of the CCTV footage we can. Also, we are hoping to find a cover to allow us to interview the men she met with prior to the abduction, in particular the man she hugged, someone called-"

"-Yakov." Gibbs supplied, running a hand through his hair, wondering just who had done this. Wondering how and why they had taken her when she was so close to coming home. The thought of Jenny and Yakov hugging made him sick to the stomach, and although he hated himself for wondering, he wondered how close the pair had actually gotten over the last few months. Whether they had been more than just business acquaintances, or whether without him in the picture they'd become something more . . . intimate.

"Good, so we have anything else from forensics on the car?" The director propositioned, as he looked at the pair on the screen, he saw the frustration etched onto Gibbs' face. The same frustration he and Will were feeling, the frustration that Stan Burley was no doubt feeling as he sat there uselessly thousands of feet above them – the exact same frustration everyone involved felt.

"Nothing sir, they went over it with a fine toothed brush." She said, mucking up her idiom as she spoke, but no one commented as they would no doubt have done any other day. Instead both the silver haired ex-marine and the director let their minds wander to Jenny.

"Has anyone been over her apartment?" Asked Will, as he stepped further into the frame of the camera, and looked at his boss in another continent. Will felt like he had had his heart ripped out of his chest, after all he saw the red head as a little sister. He and Stan had been overjoyed at the thought of her return home, the fact that she would safe and things could get back to at least some sort of normal. But now, now he was beginning to think that normal would never wash over them again. "They might have gone there first boss, or she might have left something – anything's worth a try." There was no reply from the other side, and for a moment the Americans wondered if the connection had failed, but then Gibbs spoke.

"Well have they Agent Ishutin?!" The silver haired man demanded, but she just shook her head, before turning to the Director, ready to defend the actions of the Russian agents.

"We were about to check, we did not want to blow her cover though."

Tom Marrow was about to reply, when he saw Gibbs turn and walk away, heading out of the small room. The director wanted to groan, hit his head against a wall, because it seemed that even when Gibbs was a thousand miles away he was still a pain in the ass. He was still ignoring orders, ignoring rules and regulations. "Where are you going Gibbs?!" the director asked, raising the intonation in his voice and running a hand through his thinning hair – something he would forever blame Gibbs for.

"To search her damn apartment!"

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><p>It was exactly as she had left it, exactly. As he stood there, alone in the one place she had been able to call home for the last few months, he was overwhelmed by his emotions. The smell of her perfume was still in the air, the same perfume that greeted him every morning when they were in DC, the perfume he had worn in Paris, in the steaming hot room of Marseille. The perfume which carried with it a million memories. The perfume mixed with a lingering smell of coffee, the very Jamaican blend that he had got her hooked on, that she had at first frowned at.<p>

And as he walked over to the window, he could almost picture her stood there with her coffee in hand, looking out over the view. She'd have loved it, just as she had loved the one they had had Paris. So many times he had awoken to find her stood at the window, looking out, like it was her peep hole to the world. His eyes lingered on the tidy kitchen, on the barely used sofa. Then he made his way into the bedroom, with the perfectly made bed, with her little knick knacks she hadn't taken. As he opened the wardrobe he smirked at the number of shoes and clothes she had accumulated over her stay. Things he knew she would have wanted to take given the chance. With gentle fingers he touched the material of a familiar pink shirt that he knew was her favourite, and ran his thumb over the soft material.

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment before letting it slide through his fingers. He sighed softly, and opened his startling blue eyes once more before deciding that he had a job to do. So, without even leaving a stone unturned he set about searching the apartment, and fought to keep his emotions in the iron cell he had locked them away in. And yet all the time, all he could think about, was the fact that he had already lost one woman. Shannon had left him never to return, and now the thought of losing Jenny, the only other person who had managed to make him feel like his heart was repairable . . . he couldn't let himself think about not finding her.

As it turned out the apartment was clean, there was nothing there but traces of her life as Julietta, no evidence of anyone else having been there, and no evidence that she was in fact Jennifer Shepard. But before he left, he gave the apartment a final look, and silently prayed to god – any god. Prayed that someone up there would keep her safe until he found her, that he'd manage to get the best partner he had ever had back.

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><p>Will walked into the bull pen, it was late, or early, he wasn't sure anymore, the last day and a half and blurred together into a mass of fear and work. The agent sat down at the desk and ran a hand through his hair, grabbing his phone in the hope he had missed someone telling him she was okay. Yet he knew he hadn't. He was just giving himself false illusions of hope.<p>

The Special agent cast his eyes to the red heads desk that she hadn't occupied in months. Standing up, he walked over, and sat in her chair. His fingers gently ran over the keys on her computer, brushing away the thin layer of dust that covered them. His eyes caught sight of the red patch on the side of the keyboard, and it made him smirk. It made him smirk because he remembered how it had gotten there. She'd been painting her nails because they had no case, and Gibbs was away on honeymoon. But Stan being Stan had tipped the varnish over, he could still hear the sound of the agent moaning as he was forced to scrub the entire desk with nail varnish remover to get rid of the red liquid. Something which had not gone well. That was the reason why the spare desk which sat behind the divider had a large patch which looked bleached – because he'd ended up ruining the desk.

Will closed his eyes and opened the top draw of her desk to find her service weapon and badge sat there peacefully. He picked up the golden badge and smirked, remembering how even after having been an agent for so long she still took pride in polishing it. Something he endlessly took the mick out of her for, but endlessly respected at the same time.

He too, prayed that she would return home safe and sound.

From the catwalk Tom Marrow watched the agent, and for the first time in a long time, he looked down on what people called his kingdom, and he didn't feel pride. Instead he felt what he could only call shame, because he was responsible for Jennifer Shepard not being behind that desk. Because he always said that he was responsible for anything that happened to or with his agents, and no he was responsible for one of his best agents not being in the chair she deserved to be in. So he too prayed. In that moment three men, in two continents, prayed for one woman to return to all of them.

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><p>She was dropped on the floor like nothing more than a sack; then again all she was was a sack of bones. The pain didn't register, all she could feel was a dull ache moving across her body. The red head had no idea how long she had been there, but she hadn't said a word. She was smart enough to know that none of this would end anytime soon.<p>

Her face was grazed from the hard floor, a bruise was forming over her eye from a beating, and it felt like one of her ribs was broken. Yet she had no energy to resist, she hadn't had food or water, and her head hurt. Jenny didn't even open her eyes to look around the room; instead she just remained still, stopping her emotions.

The red head had made a promise to herself that she wouldn't cry, no matter what she wouldn't cry. And so fat she hadn't. But as she laid there she easily could, because he mouth tasted like blood, and her cuts spread all over her body. The clothes she had been taken in were ripped, and her body was dusty and dirty. Everything felt like a nightmare, a nightmare that was real. As she laid there, in the back of her mind, she remembered Gibbs, and the last time she had seen him. He knight in shining armour stood there in that alley way, as she walked away, telling him she didn't want to see him. Acting like such a bitch, pushing him away when all he wanted to do was help. The ironic thing was, she'd give anything to be back in that alleyway now.

One woman, in some hot far off country, prayed for someone to pick her up and carry her home. Prayed, and prayed, and prayed…

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><p><em>Reviews are greatly appreciated! <em>


	13. A Beating a Day

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Author's Note** _This chapter and the next are the last two of this style before i begin to close this storyline, and start on the next bit of this story. I feel i should warn you that this story will span over ten years in thee time, so there will be a few time leaps in the up and coming chapters. But i'll warn you when they happen. _

_thanks for the reviews, and please keep them coming, enjoy!_

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><p><em><strong>A Beating a Day<strong>_

'_Keep on dreaming__  
><em>_Don't let it break your heart'  
>-Eli Young Band, Even if it breaks your heart<em>

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><p>"Get up!"<p>

Another day. Another beating. Another wake up. Another session of excruciating pain.

Her eyes opened at the feeling of water being tipped over a fragile and weak frame. The shock to her system took a couple of seconds to die down, causing her breath to become harsh, raspy, and spontaneous. Half of her mind told her to breathe, whilst the other told to try and get the water in her mouth. To try and rehydrate her traumatised body. If her hands had not been tied then she would have, but instead she just closed her eyes once more, and let the remainder of the water tip over her. Causing her red hair to become drenched and stick to her face and neck in a tangled mess. The ties around her wrists had already dug into the skin, chafing and cutting at her. Causing her pale and soft skin to be covered with dark red patches – but they weren't the only signs of pain on her battered body.

She was lifted up by the man who had rudely awakened her. They all looked the same, although she knew that this was a man who was nothing much more than a guard. He had never been one to torture her, never done anything except wake her up on the odd occasion. The man in charge was the one who she had only seen once, on her first day. And whom she would not be upset never to see again, because it was him who had broken her rib.

The man took her by the hands, and lifted her so she was almost kneeling, except it was not her holding her body up. "Walk!" The man ordered. But Jenny didn't make any effort to move, simply for the reason that she had no energy left. All the men that acted as her guards only ever spoke single words, and it made her wonder exactly how much English everyone here spoke. Part of her wished she understood them, at least then she would know why she was there, but then again, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what her fate was to be. After all, that would most likely extinguish the small amount of hope she still had of her escape.

When she failed to respond to his order, he simply dragged her along the floor, causing yet more grazes to form along her bare feet and legs. But Jenny just remained lifeless. With every day that passed, that hope grew weaker, and part of her wondered just who would even miss her . . .

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><p>Another day. Another dead end. Another step further away from finding her.<p>

He sat at the small desk they had given him, with barely even enough room for a computer and a coffee cup to be on it at the same time. He sat there, looking at the picture on the screen. Looking at the last time anyone had seen his partner. Walking away from the riverside and towards her car, with her coat blowing out behind her and her high heels clip clopping away. No doubt thinking of the hotel bed that was waiting for her, and the flight back home that she was to take.

Their last sighting.

The coffee cup was empty now, the cardboard not even still warm. And even after a dozen coffees that day, he didn't feel awake. The caffeine had no affect on him now, the adrenaline had worn off, and the amount of time since he last slept and ate was beginning to take its toll. He may like to think he didn't need anything but coffee to survive, but he was wrong. Jenny had always told him that.

Stan had arrived in Moscow after numerous delays getting there. But Gibbs had barely seen him since he left to go and visit the docks where she had last been seen, and drive the route she was supposed to have taken. It was reassuring to the silver haired man that his own agent was there, checking everything. It was times like this he was glad that he had managed to get his team to the standard where he didn't have to tell them what to do. That they used their initiative. Will had been calling him with updates, and apparently they were checking all scheduled and unscheduled outgoing flights from Moscow.

Russia was a massive country though, and Gibbs was no going to kid himself into thinking that they could search the whole of it to find her. Even if they did, well, she could be anywhere around the world by now.

Anywhere.

And what was worse, was that they didn't only have to look into the life of Jennifer Shepard, they had to look at her alias as well. And all of that took time, time that they didn't have.

* * *

><p>Today it was a kick to the stomach that awoke the redhead, however it was not to slumber that she had slipped into, but unconsciousness. Somehow she had been dragged back into the room they housed her in. The square, dusty room, with sand coloured walls, and not even a window. With just one steel door that was opened only to deliver her from a torture session, or wake her up. Every couple of times someone would chuck her a granola bar. The only time she would get water was when they were interrogating her. But even then she ended up choking on it as it was forced down her throat.<p>

The kick to the stomach hit her sore rib, making her screw her eyes up in pain. The rib that had been broken since she arrived, and had not been left alone long enough to begin to heel. Because every time they wanted something they kicked her, or dropped her, or did something that ended up damaging it more. And part of her wondered if her injuries would kill her before they did. Whether God would be merciful and take her away before she was executed. Whether the dehydration would take her, the exhaustion or the injuries that were no doubt apparent inside.

That thought seamed merciful to her now. Death seamed peaceful.

"Wakey wakey Sleeping Beauty." Someone laughed, and she opened her eyes just enough to see the man who she believed was in charge, the one who had broken her rib. The man laughing was someone behind him, stood with a gun at the door, and she guessed that the boss thought of himself as a bit of a comedian. She just lay there motionless, and waited to be dragged. "Now its time to have some fun." The boss then nodded to the other man, who picked Jenny up and threw her over his shoulder.

She guessed she must have lost some weight if they could do that now. But she hadn't looked, her weight was not exactly an urgent issue right now. And as she was carried, she stared off into space, wondering just what memory she could wrap herself in today whilst they beat her up. Which bright place could she think of to get her through another round?

* * *

><p>Today marked Jenny being gone for well over a week. A fact that had Gibbs even more antsy and on edge than he had been since the whole dilemma began. And what was even worse was that they had nothing. Stan had been up in the Russian MTAC for the last two days, frantically following Jenny's car on CCTV before she was taken. Trying desperately to try and find the car that had taken her. Will was back in DC doing the exact same thing, and Tom Marrow was basically getting every agency on board, and urgently trying to build relations with the Russian police department in the hope that they would lend a hand on the investigation. Yet the fact that they were annoyed that NCIS had even been undercover on their territory in the first place was not doing anything to help.<p>

Gibbs, well he felt useless. He was no good when it came to technology, everyone knew that. And as there was no evidence he was stumped. So he had been fighting with Marrow to let him go and speak to Yakov, to go back in as Leo and ask for help. But that was a battle that Gibbs was yet to win. A battle that he was beginning to think that he would not win. After all, Yakov had a strong hatred for Leo. And even if both shared a mutual concern for 'Julietta', everyone doubted that he would help. All that Yakov would see was Leo trying to turn another arms dealer over to the police.

Stephanie had booked herself into a hotel, and he had barely seen her apart from when he had gone there to change. She was annoyed at him – duly annoyed at him – but at the same time she would not say anything. Truth be told she was just as scared that they wouldn't find Jenny. Firstly because she knew that without his partner her husband would be a different man. Jennifer Shepard had an unusual talent in the way that she could so easily tame the former marine. Stephanie had never known him without the other woman taming him. But secondly, she was scared because it had finally brought the truth to light; she was all of a sudden so blindingly aware of how dangerous what Gibbs did was. How easily it could have been him who was the kidnapped one. How easily she could lose Gibbs. That was what was really making her shiver in her boots.

The fact that she could so easily wake up one morning without him there.

"Boss." Gibbs looked up from the computer screen at his desk to see Stan Burley. When he had returned to his desk he found a note from Agent Ishutin, telling him that a file had been emailed to her to show him. So he'd been sat there reading the findings of William Decker back in DC, but also reading the full version of Jenny's assignment file. Something he had not realised that he had not actually read.

Stan Burley looked at his boss, and felt a wave of fear. He'd never seen Gibbs like this, not even after the whole Paris ordeal when even red had been shaken up. So seeing his boss in a state that he could only describe as broken, well he could not deny the fact that he was scared. "I brought ya Chinese, had to search the entire city but I figured that you probably could do with it." Stan said, as he pulled up a chair to the end of his boss's desk, sat down and pushing the container over to his boss, along with a fork. Unlike their red headed friend, he didn't much care for chop sticks, he preferred to actually be able to eat his food and not have to lay a balancing game in order to do so.

"Thanks." Gibbs said. Opening the carton, and looking at the Chow Mein that Burley had bought him – the one he always got when they ate take away. Gibbs sat there eating, not even saying anything, because he didn't know what to say. He was never one for much talking, but when something as tragic as Jenny's kidnapping was still going on, it made him not want to talk even more. That and the fact that he could not remember the last time he had eaten. Just like he had not realised just how starving he was.

"We'll find her, we will boss." Stan said, looking over at the senior agent. The man who was like a father to him, who had turned him into so much of a better man. Who had, in no uncertain terms, made him grow up into a man. And as Gibbs nodded, and Burley sighed, both men thought about just where she was, and what she was doing.

Both hoped that what was happening was better than what they thought.

Both were wrong.

* * *

><p>Chucked into the room yet again, her limbs smacking to the floor, hard, her head landing on the floor. Causing yet another scratch on her forehead. Already Jenny could feel the blood begin to trickle down her face, the tingling feeling that followed it soothing the pain. Lying there, she wanted to cry, but crying took energy, energy she didn't have.<p>

The red head didn't know how long she had been there. She hadn't seen daylight since she arrived; it could have been days, weeks or even months. But she didn't know. All that the special agent knew was that they knew who she was, and they wanted information, information that she would die before giving. Today had been another torture session. Her head had been held under the water until she thought they would kill her, and then pulled out again.

It seemed that was their new tactic. Make her think they were going to kill her, give her the hope of this nightmare ending, and then stop it all. The water had been one of the less severe tortures; she didn't even want to think about the others. She would never tell anyone about some, never tell Gibbs in particular, because she knew that he would never look at her the same again.

Would.

She was thinking about the future again, about her escape. It was easy to do, easy to think that this was all some test that would soon be over. That was how she got through it, thinking like this was just one very dark tunnel, but with every torture session she got one step closer to that light. Whether that light was a rescue team coming to save her, or the arms of God ready to lift her up, it didn't matter. Either one was better than this.

Her face was filthy, her clothes were filthy, her hair was wet, and she was cold. The red head moved her wrists, but once more just felt the plastic chafing at her skin. They had been looser not long ago, but she guessed that they had spotted that and put new ones on to stop her from slipping out of them. Not that it would do much good. Jenny was nothing but bone now; she had no muscle on her and no energy to fight her way out.

She swallowed, but her throat hurt from the water, it felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper. Something she would not put past them to try and make her talk. Closing her eyes she once more fought the urge to cry, to sob, but the knowledge that they were probably outside the room now, and would hear her. That fact stopped her, because the last thing she wanted was for them to think that they were winning.

So once more, Jenny thought of a happier place. She thought of NCIS, where she always thought of. Jenny remembered the team, Gibbs' glared, Stan's jokes and Will's eye rolls. She remembered a time before Stephanie and before Julietta was ever a name she went by.

With those memories rolling around her mind, she fell into unconsciousness. A calm and warm place, where things didn't hurt anywhere near as much as they did in reality.

And she dreamed, of all the things she had never let herself dream of.

Love. Marriage. Children. Family. Normality.

* * *

><p>All the while, everyone else tried to find her. And yet with every day, they got no further. Rumours spread, rumours that she hadn't been kidnapped but had run away, had been killed, had decided that she wanted to be Julietta. Those rumours surrounded them all, and with every rumour that sprouted that hope faded, that dedication was reduced.<p>

Yet five people believed in her.

Five people who knew he best, believed that she would never betray her country. Believed that, no matter how long it took, they would find her. Down in Autopsy back in DC, Ducky began to make his way through his massive web of connections, calling in favours, and doing what he could to help. He was a man of men; that was something that he was currently proving. He went through contact after contact, starting in France, and making his way through Europe.

Up in his office Tom Marrow fought to keep Gibbs in Moscow, a battle that as the weeks went on proved harder, and harder to win. He did his best to control everything, helped in every way he could, whilst down in the bullpen William Decker ran himself ragged. Working cases basically single handed, and spending his nights trying to find Jenny. Feeding information to and from Moscow, and using the resources which America had at their finger.

Stan Burley worked as hard as he could, keeping Gibbs sane, and building relations. Working with Russian PD, and trying to find her. But what he managed to do that no one else did, was he managed to make Gibbs feel useful. Whether it was asking him to check something of Jenny's, or pretending he needed help with a Russian case. He did anything he could.

Five people, worked flawlessly in sync, all desperately trying to find the redhead.

The red head who lay starved and beaten on the dusty floor in another continent.


	14. In The Depths of Autopsy

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

* * *

><p><em><strong>In the Depths of Autopsy<strong>_

'_Regret's been know to give a man a beatin'__  
><em>_But I ain't in the mood for fightin' back this evenin'__  
><em>_Only fools don't take the time of day__  
><em>_They stay too busy runnin''  
>-Eric Church, The Hard Way<em>

* * *

><p>Over two months had passed now. Two long, torturous, dead end months had passed, and still they were not a step closer to finding her. Every day that passed brought yet more hours of scanning the same CCTV footage, checking more Jane Doe bodies in case in some twist of fate it was her. Yet every day brought them no closer. Nothing new had arisen, and yet there was no bad news either. And whilst some would try to console all of those who were worried with the familiar phrase; 'no news is good news', at the back of everyone's mind was the voice of the cop. The badge that had seen so many abductions and bodies, the same badge which was telling them that now, two months later, they wouldn't find her alive.<p>

Some had begun looking for burial sites – those who were still actually bothering to look. But every week that passed caused the number of agents looking to dwindle. After over a month, Stan had had to fly back to DC in order to help Will. Because there was only so much work that one agent could do. Agent Ishutin was slowly beginning to talk to him about the case less and less. Even Tom Marrow called on him less for updates and reports.

So now, as he was summoned up to the Russian MTAC, he knew exactly what he was about to get told. He'd been expecting it for the last couple of weeks. Yet at the same time, it hurt him that no one seemed to be bothered anymore. It scared him how life without her was just moving on, like she'd never been there. Gibbs knew that thinking like that was exaggerating the situation. Every single one of them would always think of her. When there was no active case it was hers they would work, but it didn't stop him feeling like everyone had given up.

Stephanie was back in DC as well, when Burley had gone back so had she. There was only so much that she could take after all. Jenny was an important part of her husband's life, and consequently her life, but Jenny was not _her _partner. Jenny was just another work colleague after all.

As Gibbs walked up the stairs he was overwhelmed with regret that he was still yet to find her. The door at the top finally opened to his iris scan, after having to get one of the agents to open it for him for the first month or so. And as he walked in, he saw Tom Marrow waiting for him. Gibbs didn't even bother to remove the glum and utterly annoyed look off of his face. Marrow would know it was there anyway. The director had done more than most did – Gibbs knew that, and he appreciated it – but that was not the point. The fact was that cops, federal agents, marines, they weren't meant to leave a man behind; they weren't meant to give up on their own.

And look what they were doing now.

"Gibbs." Marrow said, nodded to the other man via satellite video, Gibbs nodded back. He noticed the tired look on his director's face, and the growing black bags under his eyes. Gibbs wondered if their director had been playing agent to try and get Jenny back, they all knew that Marrow had been one of the best NCIS had when he was in the field. Not in the same way Gibbs was, Marrow had gotten to the bottom of a case, and managed to not annoy anyone along the way – he did what Gibbs had only ever witnessed Jenny do. Both of them managed to play politics, and yet not let it get in the way of a case.

Whilst Gibbs shot anyone who stepped on his turf.

"You want me back in DC." It wasn't a question from the former Marine, it was a statement.

"It's been over two months Gibbs. I'm not saying don't stop looking – I _want _to find her, I'm just saying do it from this side of the Atlantic." And Gibbs looked at the older man, and realised how little energy he had. Gibbs hadn't slept since Jenny was kidnapped; he had been living on coffee –

-He'd put everything in to finding her. But there is only so much you can do before you put yourself in the ground. That was something he knew Jenny would kill him for doing. So he just nodded, and accepted that this was a battle that he wasn't going to win.

"I'll be on the next flight." And with that the silver haired, blue eyes special agent left the darkened room, and headed to the safe house he had been sleeping in. But before he did that, he went to the riverside, and looked out over the industrial half of the city. For one reason only – to pray that she would come home safe.

* * *

><p>Marrow sighed when he got back into his office, and fell into the black leather chair. It was a good job that it was comfy, because these days it acted not only as a chair, but as a bed and a therapist's couch. But as he sat down today, he didn't like what his chair stood for. There was a time when he would have expected Gibbs to refuse to come home, to quit his damn job if it found his partner, but looking at him over satellite camera, he saw something that scared him; the agent was beginning to lose hope.<p>

Marrow had read Gibbs' file, he knew about Shannon and Kelly, he knew about Martinez, and what Gibbs had no doubt done. And that was why the look in Gibbs' eyes scared him so much. Marrow saw himself as a friend almost to the former marine, he, Gibbs and Jenny had a good relationship thanks to the deep cover of the Europe op. But he was not sure how either Gibbs or he would cope if Jenny had to be classed as killed on duty.

"Can you get me Agents Decker and Burley?" He asked his secretary through the intercom. She gave the affirmative and he lent back in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly before looking on his computer screen which was filled with Jenny related items. All the latest bodies to turn up in Russia and it's bordering countries. Every report that had anything to do with finding her. And yet in the mass of intelligence he had access to, there was nothing. Not even with the assistance of Russian PD, the FBI or the CIA could they find her.

Marrow knew that rumours were everywhere, and every time he asked if they had anything someone smirked. He knew they all thought him a fool for believing in her, after all one of the only ways to disappear that well was if you _really _didn't want to be found. So all those agencies who were 'helping' were actually under the belief that she had turned dark. But they didn't know one thing that he did.

They didn't _know _Jennifer Shepard.

There was a knock at his door, and he allowed entry, knowing that it would be Decker and Burley, which sure enough it was. They entered looked as tired as he felt, and what he would swear was in yesterday's clothes. The pair had managed to solve every case that came their way, but even when Tom would leave late at night or early the next morning, the two would still be working on Jenny's case. There were numerous mornings he had arrived for a meeting with London, at 4am, only to find the pair passed out on their desks. No one could say they had not looked down every avenue.

"Gibbs is coming back stateside." Was all Tom Marrow said, and he would swear he saw part relief in their eyes. The pair of agents were fiercely loyal to their boss, and wanted him back to lighten the load. But he also knew what this would signify to them.

"So what, we're just giving up? It's been two months so we class her as MIA? Dead? Just because we can't find her?" Stan questioned anger in his voice as he spoke, the same anger every agent that properly knew the red head was feeling. The director watched as Will placed a hand on his partners shoulder, trying to tell him to calm down, but Stan shook it off. "No, no Jenny would not do this to us. She would fight our corner! Two months, that is barely anything in the scheme of things! We've found people alive after a year! Why the hell should we stop now?"

But not one of them answered him, simply because they didn't know what to say, or how.

"This is utter bull! 'We stand by our own' isn't that what we say? All I can see is that when the going gets damn tough we give up, well you know what? I'm not going to. I'm gonna find her even if it kills me!" The agents stormed out of the office after that, letting the metal door slam behind him on a silent office.

Tom Marrow and William Decker stood there silently for a couple of minutes, before Decker headed for the door. "Special Agent Decker -"

"I'm not going to apologise for him, because I agree with every word." Will said, turning to look at his Director. But the older man just shook his head, and felt a wave of pride.

"I wasn't going to tell you to. I was going to say; make sure you find her." And with a small smile, William Decker nodded, before walking out of the room, and closing the door behind him – softly.

Once they were gone, Tom Marrow sighed softly, and looked at his computer screen, wondering whether _when _they found her, she would still be living and breathing. And if she was, what damage would be done that was irreparable.

* * *

><p>He walked through the doors into NCIS feeling like he was home, but like his home had been emptied of everything that made him feel safe. Every agent that walked past got a scrutinising glare. His suspicion was of every face that he didn't now, and all those that he did. But it really hit him when he walked into the bullpen, and was hit in the heart, was winded, by the sight of her desk. The desk she hadn't sat at for months, but that still had her ore about it.<p>

"It isn't right empty, is it?" Will said as he walked in to find Gibbs staring at the desk. "Every day I walk in and feel like I'm looking at a ghost." But the silver haired man did not say a work. He just took two bottles of vodka out of his backpack and placed them on the desks of Stan and Will, both of whom nodded in thanks to their boss.

That was when Gibbs noticed that both of their desks were empty, and neither one of their computer screens were turned on. "We not got a case?" He questioned Will, but the younger agent simply raised an eyebrow.

"We've only got one case that matters." And then Will and Stan got up and walked out of their divider, leaving Gibbs completely confused. So, he followed them out of the bull pen and down the stairs until they arrived in autopsy and it dawned on him. There, in the middle of the cold metal room was a large whiteboard, filled with pictures of the scene he was so familiar with. Pictures of Jenny, CCTV footage of her, some of which he had not seen. Notes written in black, green and red white board pen. Marked maps, where she had last been seen. Arrows, and string, linking together theories with people and evidence.

And right in the middle of it all was Doctor Mallard, sat reading through reports which Gibbs knew should be completely blacked out. Reports that even the special agent himself had not been able to access despite his attempts. Sat next to Ducky, was the signature white cup of tea, steaming softly into the cold air. A mastermind at work drinking tea.

Gibbs stood there, watching and Stan and Decker walked over to Ducky and sat down, picking up two files which lay open, and carrying on where they had left off. Jethro stood there, watching the three men at work, watching as they got to work. He felt a wave of pride hit him once more, just like it had so many times over the last couple of months. He watched them, watched as Decker stood up and began to talk about a new theory, as Stan began to talk about his search on the internet for something. Gibbs wasn't listening, but that wasn't what mattered in that moment, because the silver haired man watched them in relief.

Ducky sat there listening to the newly developed theory of William Decker. There had been many, but the latest one was beginning to convince even him. The Scotsman sat there listening, before turning his gaze to fall upon the man who they all respected. Gibbs had been missed – that was undisputable. But there was also a sense of unresolved anger with the Doctor about it. Because it made everything seem so final – something none of them were ready for.

Yet as Ducky looked up at Gibbs, he saw a light come on in the other man, sat realisation hit. And it was about time, just because they weren't where she had been taken from, did not mean that they weren't going to find her. Gibbs stood there, and it hit him. Moscow was where the case had began, but here, in DC, in autopsy, surrounded by the finest agents who were _his _team –

-This was where the case would be solved. Because this was where the four most dedicated people were. Jenny Shepard's case would be closed from the depths of autopsy, no matter how long it took them.

* * *

><p><em>Reviews are like my Easter Chocolate - Fantastic!<em>

_(And if anyone got the doctor who reference there then you're pretty fantastic too)_


	15. Run

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Run<strong>_

'_The urge to run, the restlessness__  
><em>_The heart of stone I sometimes get__  
><em>_The things I've done for foolish pride__  
><em>_The me that's never satisfied__  
><em>_The face that's in the mirror when I don't like what I see__  
><em>_I guess that's just the cowboy in me__'  
>-Tim McGraw, The Cowboy in me<em>

* * *

><p>It came out of the blue.<p>

A week and a half after he had returned stateside.

One minute Gibbs and Marrow were stood in MTAC talking to the SecNav by video call. Both trying to explain to the Secretary why they were causing rifts between agencies in the hunt for one agent, trying to explain why they were acting like bulls in a china shop. Whilst all the time the SecNav believed not one word of what he was being told. The SecNav knew that it didn't matter how many warnings he gave the agent and director, didn't matter what he threatened them with, or did, because they would never stop their search.

One minute SecNav was telling them to start focussing on active cases, and leave her case in reserve, and the next he was telling them to get every resource they could on it. One minute he was watching two devoted men fighting for an agent, not wanting to leave one behind, and the next he was joining the club, telling them to do whatever they had to do.

The reason was, that one minute they were in a typical meeting and the next they were stood there staring at a video of her battered and bruised face, a gun being held against her head, whilst heavily accented English stated their demand to the camera. His face not visible, in fact hers was the only one which was. And from the height difference they assumed she had been pushed to her knees. What was the demand for? Well that Gibbs didn't know; because he had been too busy staring at her scared and fragile form on the screen to actually listen.

Her face was blank, her eyes dull, and he knew from the look she was wearing that any hope that had been held onto was now gone to Jenny. In her mind, she would die there. As much as the look in her eyes scared him, as much as it felt like someone had ripped his heart out, it didn't surprise him. She had not doubt been through every type of torture he could think of, and more that he didn't want to. Yet there she was on that screen, still alive, still breathing – for Gibbs, there was still the chance that he would be able to bring her home. Her eyes were ringed with black bruises, her lip cut and swollen; head covered in dried blood and her hair a tangled mess. What he could see of her clothes were ripped and filthy. Jenny looked thinner, her face looked hallow, cheekbones more prominent and eyes almost more set back.

The Jenny they all saw flash up on the screen was not the one that had left them. This one was just a shell of the person, looking emptily at the screen. He didn't want to know what they had done to her; he just wanted her in his arms so he could hug her and tell her everything would be okay. He wanted to hear her laugh, the one that lit up everywhere. Wanted to hear her argue with Stan or Will again, see her looking attentively at Ducky as he told her a story she had heard a million times before. He wanted them to be able to joke and flirt the way they had before Paris.

But if he was honest with himself, he knew it'd never be like that again. He wanted to go back in time, but that was impossible. If Gibbs got her back, then he would get Jenny Shepard back, whether he got Jen his partner back or not, that was a different matter.

The video stopped on a picture of her face, and Gibbs immediately wanted to punch something, meanwhile Tom Marrow felt like he had been punched in the stomach, just as the SecNav did. Part of Tom wished that she had turned dark, wished she had decided to work for the other side because the life would be leading would have been better than now. Anything would be better than what she had had to deal with and no doubt still was dealing with.

"Jesus Christ." The SecNav cursed, as he ran a hand through his face. Both the Secretary and Marrow shared a concerned look about Gibbs, because the man had clenched fists, but stood there almost paralysed at the sight of her on the screen. Staring at her bruised, battered and beaten face, just as though he was having a conversation with her.

"Get that video sent down to forensics, and give a copy to Agent Decker. Make sure everyone is back on high alert, we find her at any cost." Marrow instructed the technician whose face had drained of colour. The tech nodded and turned to do his job.

"You find her Tom, you find her at any cost. You've every asset in the Navy behind you." The secretary said, looking at his Director. In just two minutes the man had aged by about twenty years, softened like a man does when he looks at his daughter.

"She'll come home." Tom Said, and with that he hung up, but Gibbs said not a word. He just looked at her picture. The director nodded to the technician who took the image down and everyone left. Gibbs ran a hand through his hair and went to sit down on one of the black leather chairs which sat at the back of MTAC. He looked at the blank screen as though he could still see her.

The silver haired agent closed his eyes and took deep breaths, before standing up and kicking the chair he had been sat on whilst saying "Dammit." under his breath. Gibbs raised his eyes and looked up to the sky, but he didn't pray to god, instead he prayed to Shannon, and begged her to help him. All the time Tom Marrow watched him.

"Gibbs-"He began, trying to reassure his agent.

"It's my fault, if I'd have been there - for god's sake!" The agent swore.

"We'll get her Jethro, somehow we will get her." Gibbs just walked out then, leaving Tom Marrow to deal with his own emotions. Something that he too found himself struggling to do.

* * *

><p>Down in autopsy, on Ducky's computer which Decker had been using, they all gathered around to watch the video and even five minutes after it had finished there was silence. Not one of them knew what to say, because what could they say. Every hope of her being safe and well had just being crushed in a video. Will was sat staring at the computer screen in much the same manner that Gibbs had stared at the screen in MTAC. Stan had turned away, his face covered with a look of utter disgust at the men who had taken her.<p>

Meanwhile Ducky stood there shaking his head and trying not to let his angry side show. Not much made him angry, not when he did the job he did. But seeing what those men had done to her – that made him angry. "God help her." He whispered, but then he managed to control himself. He realised that standing around was not going to make anything better. So as Gibbs was seemingly absent. Ducky stepped into his shoes.

"William, print that video off screen by screen, let's see what we can find. Stan, look into his demand, let's see what he is wanting." Both agents looked at him, wondering if he had seen what they had. Wondering how the old doctor had managed to recover so quickly and easily. But Ducky just looked at them and said:"Sitting here in shock will not find her now will it." And with that, the two agents clicked on to what he meant and went about their tasks. Both silently thankful that the god doctor was there to help them. Because these last couple of months they had made a long list of things they needed to thank him for. This was just another one to add on.

So Ducky watched as Decker sat there tapping away at the cream coloured plastic computer, whilst Stan was on the phone and walking out of the cold metal room and up to the Directors office to see what could be done. Whilst all the time the old doctor silently stood there and took a moment to himself. He wanted to get Jethro and head slap the man in the same fashion the infamous agent did to everyone else. Gibbs may well be her partner, Jethro may well be his friend, but Leroy Jethro Gibbs needed to stop wallowing in his own guilt because it was time to take control of his team.

But Gibbs was still nowhere to be seen.

"I've got the screens." Will said as he stood up and walked over to one of the empty metal tables. The agent then laid the whole video out in rows and looked at it. The Ducky grabbed a chair and a glass and set about examining the photos. Will looked at him before mimicking his actions. Will knew what he was looking for just as well as Ducky did, they were looking for something that would tell them who had her, or where she was. They were looking for anything and everything.

* * *

><p>It was nearing four hours later when Gibbs actually decided to show his face in autopsy. Stan had discovered that whilst the SecNav said they had the whole of the Navy behind them, they didn't have enough of it to provide them with what they wanted. So, Stan was currently trying to find some other way to get it together – or at least make it look like they had it so that they could get Jenny and run. But that was a hard task. Meanwhile Will and Ducky were halfway through the video and had started a list of just small things they had noticed, all of which might add up to be something that could find her.<p>

When Gibbs walked into autopsy he saw them all working away. Up in the bull pen it was much the same scene, but they had chosen to stay down there. Simply for the reason that this was where _their _whiteboard was, this was where they had discovered everything to date. And this was the place where they would not be disturbed.

He stood there watching Ducky and Will converse of the findings so far, watching Stan on the phone grovelling to someone about needing something to help them get her. Standing there he felt like he had well and truly betrayed them all; let them all down by just breaking down. They all loved her as a friend, all wanted her back just as much as he did, and yet they had still managed to keep a lid on their emotions. Running a hand through his hair he said: "What d'we got?" But he received no immediate answer, as they all looked up and nodded towards the board.

He knew that it would take a long time for them to forgive him for just leaving them when they needed someone to take the lead. "Agent Burley is attempting to find what they want. Whilst myself and Agent Decker are going over the video."

The silver haired agent just nodded, and looked around feeling as though he was being given the cold shoulder. So he sat down beside Will, and put on his glasses before helping, because it was the only thing that he could do. He had to help to find her in one way or another.

* * *

><p>It was early the following morning, when everyone had fallen asleep though that they actually got somewhere. Stan had woken up from a nightmare to find everyone asleep, so not wanting to disturb them, he had taken the list of things the video had told them and headed up to the break room where he knew there would be coffee.<p>

So, as the rain pattered down on the glass window, leaving little round bubbles of water stuck to the pain, he had his hands wrapped around a plain white mug as his eyes scanned over the white paper of the list. Each point had been written down by hand, so the sheet featured various handwritings, and towards the bottom even Gibbs' appeared.

Stan looked out of the window on the city, there was something about the rain that had always relaxed Jenny, and now as he sat there looking for her he felt it relax him as well. Taking a deep breath he looked at the paper again, and began to reread the list hoping that something would jump out. "Dusty, deserted, warm, muggy …"

Then, he thought of something and checked again, the weapons. The weapons were the same brand and calibre as the ones that were stolen a few months ago, and Stan would bet money that they were from the same batch. He picked up a couple of screenshots he had grabbed of the video, and as he looked he noticed what was written on the list, the sand coloured walls, the way the men were dressed, and a small tattoo. A tattoo he was sure was meant to be hidden, one many many people knew too well.

Jenny had been taken by a terrorist cell, and Stan would put good money on it that after recent events she was near Cairo.

* * *

><p>The agent practically ran down to autopsy, not bothered by the looks of confusion on the faces of many people. He was powered by the adrenaline which was running through his system as he thought about the chance of getting Jenny back. The lift would take too much time, so he jumped down the stairs and ran through the automatic doors into autopsy, bashing into one of the metal tables as he did so, the sound of his curses in pain awoke everyone.<p>

"I know where she is, well at least I think I do, no, I mean-"He fumbled but the glare from Gibbs told him to get to the point. "She's in Cairo."

"Explain." Said the Director from behind of Agent Burley. The man had been himself in the search of coffee when he saw the younger man running down to autopsy. Something had told him that something big was about to happen – a gut feeling – so he'd made his way down to where he knew his best agents were hiding out. And as he stood there now, he knew he had been right.

Once Stan had caught his breath he went about talking the other men through what he had found, and the more he said, the more he made sense. Gibbs looked at his agent, and for once he smiled at him. Stan may well be a joker, but when the time came for it, he was a damn good agent. "Good work." The boss said, and Stan smiled.

Marrow was sat in deep thought on one of the autopsy tables. Trying to figure out how they would get her back. "WEecan't go in." And everyone looked at him, each one outraged. "It's too dangerous, and we'll tread on too many toes."

"Tom, we have to get her!" Gibbs demanded, knowing that his agents had done what was required of them and now it was his time to do the same thing as well. Fighting for what he knew was right was where Gibbs came into his own.

"I _know _Jethro, but Cairo is a mine field we can't-"

"So what do you plan to do, leave her?"

"No." Said Marrow, looking at the agents and medical examiner in front of him. "No, I've got a better idea, one that might just work. But first I need to call in a favour."

* * *

><p>Jenny opened her eyes to the sound of voices outside; she pushed herself up into a sitting position, heavily leaning against the wall. A stinging in her arm made her see that the cut from her last session was still not scabbing over, and the blood had seeped through her make shift bandage. Her feet were bare and scraped and scratched to pieces. But they didn't hurt anymore, not because the cuts had healed but because compared to the other aches and pains in her body they were nothing.<p>

Every time she breathed it felt like someone was stabbing her. The lack of food and drink made her nauseous and caused a constant mind numbing migraine to reside it's self across her forehead. The read head leant her sore head against the wall, and tried to ignore the feeling of dirt that constantly covered her body. Her ears attempted to tune into the conversation outside, but it was in a language that she did not understand. Yet after however long of listening to them talk, she could tell that it was a different dialect to that spoken by most of the men here. And if her ears weren't betraying her, then she was pretty sure that one of the voices was that of a woman.

Jenny could feel herself losing consciousness when the door opened. There stood a woman. She had been right. The persons figure was covered in baggy clothes to disguise her gender and her head was covered by a scarf, but the eyes were feminine. The woman ran over and crouched down. "You have to trust me okay?" And for some reason – possibly because she had nothing left to lose – Jenny found herself nodding back. "Okay, you need to walk, and then run for me. We've got about three minutes to get out of here before the whole place goes mad. Can you do it?"

"I'll try." Jenny said, and the woman nodded, before pulling the red head up. Jenny had a couple of seconds to find her feat for the first time in months before the mysterious woman was pulling her out of the room. And as soon as they were out, the woman said; "And this is where we run."

On legs which were solely bone, on feet which were scraped to pieces, with a rib which was severely damages, nauseous, and pretty much only semi conscious she ran as fast as she could. And she kept running, until she collapsed to the floor and her consciousness left her.

She awoke many hours later to dazzling white lights, and in another small square room guarded by men with guns.

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><p><em>Reviews are welcomes with open arms!<em>


	16. This Crazy World in Lonely Times

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Author's note** _this is where the time jumps begin, but i hope they are not too confusing. Sorry for the delay, i am about to sit all of my exams so the next month and a half will have really bad updates, so i apologise! However, i'm getting my muse back so i hope that when i get the chance i will be writing instead of staring at the screen not knowing what to write.  
>Thanks for all of your reviews, and please keep them coming! They really do help me out. <em>

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><p><em><strong>This Crazy World in Lonely Times<strong>_

'_Sometimes I'm hard on me,__  
><em>_When dreams don't come easy,__  
><em>_I wanna look back and say,__  
><em>_I did all that I could,__  
><em>_Yeah at the end of the day, Lord I pray,__  
><em>_I have a life that's good.'  
>-Charles Esten, A Life That's Good<em>

* * *

><p>Slowly her eyes fluttered open. Dark thick lashes parting to reveal what were once sparkling green orbs of magic but had been dulled by recent events. They opened only to close at the shock of the startling white lights which met her. She scrunched up her eyelids, and waited a moment until the floating shapes that swam around the darkness had faded, then opened them again. This time slower, and with caution. After a couple more blinks to clear the foggy vision she looked around the room which was a significant contrast from the one she had been cooped up in for the last few months.<p>

This one was stark white as oppose to dusty brown, bright not dark, sterile not filthy. Her ears slowly tuned into the sound of beeping, and the red head turned her head to see that beside her sat a heart monitor. Finally she realised that she had wires attached to her. Taking a moment to adjust she closed her eyes and softly moved her arms and legs which felt numb and like jelly, yet strangely stiff at the same time. Her head swam in a dopey way, as though someone had given her a joint.

Cautiously she began to try and piece together the events of recent she could remember. Beatings, tortures - days blurring into each other - and then there was the strange woman. Jenny's guardian angel who had taken her by the hand and like they were in some action film; whispered 'run'. The red head struggled to remember what came next, everything seemed blank. There was pain, running, shouts and sirens, gunshots, then blackness. And the next thing she knew she was awake. But where?

Cautiously she sat up from her lying position in the metal bed, using the bars at the edge to support her, and squinting through the pain, then she looked down at her chest and pulled off what she assumed where the heart monitor cables attached by sucker pads. But as soon as the sticky pads had left her chest, she could hear the sound of alarms sounding outside the door, of shouts and feet running. Before the red head could remove the IV drip which was placed on her hand, the door had opened and in came a doctor. She then turned to look at him, and he walked over and silenced the machine.

"I'm going to need you to lie back down and let me place the pads back onto you." His English was accented, but his tone was soft and gentle. As she looked at him, she decided to lie back down and do as she was told – she didn't have the energy to argue with him. "Thank you, now you're going to feel drowsy as you have been given Morphine. You are at Mossad headquarters in Israel, there is a lady outside to see you." The doctor then left, and Jenny leant back sighing, Israel, is that where she had been all this time? And why was she at Mossad headquarters?

A small knock at the door captured her attention, and the red head turned to look, and saw a woman. The face flashed before her eyes, as she recalled where she recognised it from. That was the face who had whispered 'run', which'd saved her life. "I'm glad to see you are okay." The woman said, as she entered the sterile room Jenny assumed belonged to the medial department. There were no windows, and the door was solid wood, meaning her only sight out of the room was through the gap which the woman had left in the door. Outside of the room, all that could be made out was the sight of a white corridor. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Jenny immediately replied, guarded, until she saw the smirk of annoyance pass over the other woman's face. "Better than I would have been if you had not rescued me." The red head added, realising that she should be less bitter.

"Good. I thought you might like some answers?"

"Yes, I would." The red head said, moving to sit up, only to find that through the numbness of the drugs, prevailed a sharp stabbing pain in her abdomen that she had not found so painful earlier. Jenny swore under her breath before feeling the hands of the woman helping her lie back down.

"You broke a rib." The woman said, softly.

"Thank you." Jenny replied, and she didn't need to clarify what for, because both of them knew what the Jenny had been saved from. So the other woman just nodded, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"My name is Ziva David, I am a Mossad officer. Your agency discovered you were in Cairo, kidnapped by a terrorist cell, and I was asked by the deputy director to find you. I will not bore you with the details. You ran for nearly a mile before you collapsed, and that was when we identified you had been shot. Mossad had a plane waiting to fly us out of Cairo. You remained unconscious the whole way here."

"How long was I . . ." She let the sentence hang in the air, not knowing what to call it, kidnapped? Held hostage? So she didn't name it, that way it was easier for everyone. Ziva nodded though, knowing what the agent had meant. She herself had been kidnapped, however never for the amount of time that this woman had been. Jenny had managed to survive something excruciating for longer than anyone the Mossad officer had ever known.

"I believe it was around three months." Jenny just nodded and pressed her head into the pillows, attempting to bury herself away out of eyesight. "NCIS are about to be informed of your safety, you will stay here until you are cleared to fly. I suggest you get some sleep." And with that Ziva left, silent in her combat trousers and black vest top. Curly black hair snatched back in a ponytail with a headscarf.

Jenny sighed, and for the first time in a long time she let her mind wander to DC, and those that were waiting for her there. If anything, the past few months had made her realise how short life was. Lying there now she realised that she didn't want to live the rest of her life solely for her work and die in the line of duty leaving only co-workers to grieve her absence. She didn't want her grave stone to solely commend her achievements at NCIS. She wanted something more, wanted someone more. Maybe it was time for her to change what her priorities were; maybe even though his marriages seamed to never work, Gibbs had the right idea.

And with dreams of a husband and family, dreams she had never allowed herself to dream, she fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Gibbs, Will, Stan, and Ducky sat on the soft black leather chairs which sat on the back of MTAC, whilst Tom Marrow stood in the centre of the room, all of them waiting to be connected to Mossad headquarters. Every one of them waiting to hear the news on Jennifer Shepard – their elusive agent. Waiting to hear whether the infiltration of a terrorist cell to retrieve one of their agents had worked or not. An operation that would have been stopped at the beginning by any other director, that would never have gotten this far if Tom Marrow had not known how to work people. An operation that had only been allowed because of the reputation of two infamous men; Tom Marrow, and Leroy Jethro Gibbs. All hoping, with all of their being, that they would get her back.<p>

After what felt like an eternity of looking at a black screen, finally it burst into colour, and even though it was just the initial multicoloured striped which came into view, it was something. Then, there sat the face of deputy director Eli David, and each of the men sat on the black chairs visibly sat forward. All apart from Gibbs, who stood up and walked over to stand next to his director in the centre of the room. "Deputy Director David." Acknowledged Tom; looking at the face of the dark haired man who looked to be stood in their own version of MTAC.

"Director Marrow, Agent Gibbs I presume." The director mirrored with a small nod of the head.

"Did you get her? Is she okay?" Jethro jumped straight in with the questions, something that Marrow wanted to do, but was too much of a politician to do so, and something which those sat down were grateful for. The deputy director of Mossad, stood in Israel, on a video call to NCIS a thousand miles away smirked at their boldness. There were so many things that divided their agencies, but he and Marrow were desperate to try and bridge that rift – he hoped that this would be the push that the rest of their agencies needed. Even though there were so many differences between the two agencies, the dedication to their cause was evident in both.

"I apologise for his boldness Eli, this day had been a long time coming. Most of us expected her home three months ago." Marrow commented, running a hand down his face in tiredness. Maybe if she was safe he could actually sleep, maybe the SecNav would be off of his back and maybe he'd be able to bridge relations with the sister agencies he'd annoyed in his treasure hunt.

"Well then it is my pleasure to tell you that Agent Shepard in safely here in the building I am in. She's receiving medical care, and will remain here until the doctors clear her for flight." Said Eli, watching the relief wash over the faces of the men in Washington DC. The way each one of them – even just momentarily – closed their eyes and silently prayed to thank god that she was safe.

"Thank you." Gibbs said, it wasn't much; it was less than the agency deserved. Yet coming from Gibbs it was a lot, and it was all that the deputy director needed, something that was evident from the way that he nodded in reply.

"I owe you Eli." Was Tom's response.

"And I will collect my friend. This is Officer David, she is the officer who infiltrated the terrorist camp, and who will be monitoring your agent until she returns." A young woman, with dark hair and subtle features, yet with guarded eyes appeared on the screen, and each person in DC felt in her debt. "Officer David will give you any extra information you would like." And with that Eli David, was gone.

"Agent Shepard suffered a gunshot to the shoulder during our escape; she also received numerous injuries whilst she was captured, a broken rib, a serious head wound, as well as other smaller injuries. We, however, will leave her psychological state to be evaluated by NCIS. She is being given fluids through an IV drip as she is severely malnourished and dehydrated as well as being given morphine for the pain. Tetanus and other injections have also being delivered by the doctor. None of her injuries pose any serious threat to her life." Her voice was almost monotonous, level headed as she read off the facts from a clipboard.

Everyone left that MTAC room feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off of their shoulders. Feeling like that night they would be able to go home and rest easy. Even though there was still the feeling of guilt, even though they still all felt as though they had failed her for ever letting her get in that position in the first place. They all also knew that they had done everything they could to get her back home.

Standing at the top of the staircase that went down into the bull pen, they all stopped, and Tom Marrow asked for the attention of every agent that was in the bull pen. The thing was, it had not just been those that had been in MTAC who had found her, it had been every agent in NCIS as much as them too. It had been every one of them who had worked late into night.

"In the last 24 hours, Special Agent Jennifer Shepard has been located, rescued, and placed in the medical facility belonging to Mossad. Jenny will be coming back to DC once the doctors have cleared her to fly – thank you all for your help." There was a round of applause, cheering and smiles, not for the speech their director had just given, not for the agents who were stood at the top of the stairs. But for Jenny, for her perseverance and determination to survive, for God, Jesus, Buddha, anyone up there who had made this happen – who had given her the ability to survive.

The job every one of them did was dangerous. Each one of them had had that moment when they thought they would not be making it back home that night, and some had even known people who didn't make it home. So to see that one woman had come back from the brink of death – that was something to celebrate. And celebrate was something that they would mostly all do that night in one way or another, some would just be surrounded by the love of those at home, whilst others would hit the bars. But no one would be alone that night, because that would make it all too hard to handle. That was a night they all needed to be together.

When the noise had died down Ducky looked at the men in front of him and felt pride. This was his family, along with Jenny, they were the reason he did what he did. "Now, I don't know about all of you but I could do with a nice cup of tea, and anyone who cares to join me is welcome." Yet what he didn't expect was that they all would, but it was what he needed, and when they got down to autopsy, they got something stronger than tea; Scotch. "I know it's not your usual poison Jethro, but it will do." Said the Scotsman, making the agent smirk.

"Thanks Duck." He replied, and they all looked at each other, waiting for someone to make the toast, and the duty fell on Ducky, who took his glass, out stretched his arm, and smiling ever so softly he looked at Gibbs, who was stood in the corner.

"To Jennifer." He said, and there was a chorus to 'to Red' 'to Jenny' 'to Shep' and, then there was Gibbs, who chose to adopt his nickname for her from Paris. The one that recent events had meant he didn't use. The one that their torn relationship before the op, had made too intimate.

"To Jen." Gibbs said, before downing the glass of liquor.

* * *

><p>That night Gibbs actually arrived home before midnight, in fact he arrived home at 7pm, a time unheard of as of late. And as soon as he stepped through the door he felt different. He felt like now he had found Jenny he could be happy – or try to be – it all depended on whether he was able to fix what he was pretty sure he had broken. "Jethro?" Stephanie questioned as she walked out of the kitchen. Surprised that he was actually home.<p>

"Hey." He said, walking over to her and kissing her gently on the lips.

"Is everything oaky?" She questioned warily, the only tiem he came home these days was to change clothes or crash on the sofa.

"We found her." And as annoyed as she was at him, Stephanie could not help but feel a wave of relieve, because she knew how much it meant to her husband. And even if it didn't mean a lot to her husband, it was a horrible thing that Jenny had had to endure.

"Good." And with that she returned into the kitchen to plate him up some dinner. There was a rift in their marriage – both of them knew it – but now he had fought his dragon, maybe they could repair it. Hopefully it would not grow a second head - for now it was in the hands of the gods, they had done everything that they could.


	17. Mossad's Labyrinth

_**Mossad's Labyrinth**_

'_It's a four letter word__, __a place you go to heal your hurt__  
><em>_It's an altar, it's a shelter__, __one place you're always welcome,__  
><em>_A pink flamingo, double wide__, __one bedroom in a high rise__  
><em>_A mansion on hill, where the memories always will__  
><em>_Keep you company, whenever you're alone__  
><em>_After all of my running__  
><em>_I'm finally coming'  
>-Gwyneth Paltrow, Coming Home<em>

* * *

><p>She's spent well over a month hauled up in that metal hospital bed with numerous wires and tubes attached her all feeding her some sort of medicine. She'd spent well over a month being observed and watched to make sure none of her injuries turned septic, making sure she didn't casually pass out, and now she was still stuck in that same hospital room – when she shouldn't be. In fact, if plans had gone as they were meant to, she would have been home by now. Yet some military exercise in Israeli airspace meant that she still had to wait until it was safe and clear for them to take off.<p>

That was why Jenny was currently laid on the same hospital bed, in some of Ziva's clothes reading a book that someone had mercifully found for her. The clothes hung off of her figure like she was a rag doll, each and every one of her joints seemed to be overly exposed. And the book, as merciful as its escape was, had proved to be severely monotonous. However the majority of her injuries were steadily healing. But she was still covered with angry red scratches and cuts, and now white lines where some had scarred. Areas she knew she'd have to put concealer over for years to come. Yet her ribs were still cracked and so she wore taping around her abdomen to try and help them recover. It seemed that all the beatings had made the ribs halt their process of recovery, and now it was just a waiting game. Like everything was. Waiting to go home. Waiting – or rather praying – for normality to return.

The red head slowly stood up. The tape mixed with the pain made it hard to stand up and move. Thankfully all of the monitors and cables had been detached from her meaning there was one less obstacle in the way of her movement. Apparently, when the time came that they were able to fly they would do so practically then and there. Within ten minutes they'd be in the air. So Jenny had to be ready to go at almost any minute all the time. Once again slowly, she began to walk over to the door the room which felt like her cage. She was bored, really, really bored. So Jenny set about wandering around the mysterious place she was in.

From what she had deciphered from conversations, the medical area was not a separate building from the rest of the headquarters. That turned out to be true, because soon the white corridors had become darker and painted in almost a sandy colour. Jenny wandered aimlessly through the corridors which were completely empty. She had a growing suspicion that the reason they could not fly had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that there was a military mission going on.

Without even thinking where she was going, aimlessly she wandered down corridors until she found herself in an area filled with sack punching bags and blue soft mats which she guessed was where arm to arm combat was taught. She was slightly annoyed that her ribs had not recovered, because she would have loved to get someone to teach her some of the skills Mossad had taught them. After all it was not often that she would even get to see this much of their headquarters. Learning their combat would be a once in a life time opportunity – that she had officially missed. If she could have learnt it then it might stop her getting in this position again someday – and maybe make Gibbs stop seeing her as a weakling, because she knew as soon as she got back he would. The former marine would not let her do anything, and she was pretty sure that she would end up killing him for it.

The sound of a voice brought her out of her thoughts, and Jenny found she was not alone. Ziva was on one of the mats doing the splits in a pair of shorts which were tiny. "You are meant to be resting." Said the slightly accented English voice.

"I was bored out of my mind." The red head replied, and Ziva just smirked, unable to dispute the fact because she knew that she herself would be bored if she was in the NCIS agent's position. Jenny made her way over to one of the benches after that and sat down, meanwhile Ziva carried on as though she was not there.

The Israeli moved over to one of the punch bags, and without gloves began to punch the thing into submissions. At first it swung menacingly and Jenny half wondered whether it would knock the officer out. But in her bare feat the woman was quick and silent as she avoided the backlash. Then she began to hug the bag and knee it. One knee then the other, and Jenny could visibly see the bag once more shaking with the impact of the jabs. Ziva carried on doing a series of regular kicks, and moves with extraordinary agility and strength.

Just watching made Jenny ache to be able to move properly again, but she knew it would take time. In that moment her aim was decided, she needed to recover and get better, and then go and get stronger, and faster than she had been. This experience had made her want and need to build up her strength and power, because if she didn't then she would always fear an attack like the one she had experienced again. For the rest of her life she would find herself looking over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>So, for the next few days that was what Jenny did. She would get up and walk to the training room to watch Ziva practice. And so, silently and without moving the red headed NCIS agent began to learn just how the brunette moved, and so each and every detail was mentally stored away in the back of her mind. Jenny began to keep them there, so that when she got back in the gym at NCIS, she could start practicing, and maybe, after she had beat Gibbs;' ass in arm to arm combat he would treat her normally.<p>

Each day, Ziva continued like she didn't know Jenny was there. But every day the Israeli did what she usually did, only slightly slower, slightly more precisely, so that Jenny could pick up on what she was doing. So that the red head could figure out how she could do the same. Ziva had been taken hostage before, not for as long as Jenny had been, but for long enough. She knew that when you were finally released there was a need to make yourself feel stronger, to try and make yourself invincible so that it would not happen again. So she tried to help Jenny, without her feeling like she was being smothered – because both women hated that.

A week after she first watched her, half way through the session Ziva's mobile phone let out a shrill noise. Smoothly the Mossad officer stopped the punch bag from swinging and went to answer her mobile. Jenny didn't fully know what was being said, her Hebrew was not as good as she had thought it was. But when Ziva hung up she swiftly went into the locker room and immerged not five minutes later, her hair wet from a shower and wearing her usual combat trousers and a black vest top. The long black hair plaited down her back.

"You are to fly out in ten minutes." Said the Israeli as she walked towards Jenny. "Do you have any need to go back to your hospital room first?" Jenny mentally thought about what was left there, the book that she had finally finished, and a few garments she knew Ziva would collect anyway. Her bag and personal effects had not been found. And the clothes that she had worn had been thrown in the bin because of the rips, blood and dirt. She officially had nothing left to take with her.

"No, no I have what I'm wearing, and even they are yours." Jenny said, slowly standing up. Her ribs were slowly becoming less painful but the tape still made it hard to move.

"You may keep them. They have put a bag on the plain which is filled with all the medical tape and painkillers you may need." Ziva informed her, and slowly they began to walk out of the room and down a new path which Jenny had never been down before. They passed numerous officers, and jenny noted the gun holstered on each one's hip, and the second at the base of their spine. She assumed if Ziva was anything to go by then there were knives all over them as well.

"I will not be flying with you." The Mossad officer said when they reached a door. Another Mossad officer, this time male stood there, ready – or so she assumed – to escort her to the plane which would fly her half way around the world to DC, home. "I have another assignment which I must carry out. Goodbye Jenny, stay safe."

"Goodbye Ziva, and thank you again." The two women said their goodbyes and then Jenny was lead through the door. It took her outside; somewhere she could not remember being in so long. The air was muggy, hot and sweaty, and she remembered that it was summertime now. The heat made it hard to breathe at first, and she had to stop. The Officer made no comment; one look at her would tell everyone she was still not well.

The sound of aeroplanes taking off met her ears, and she saw a white plane, small in size ready for her to take off. She began to walk again, slowly on the sandy tarmac in the sandshoes that Ziva had let her wear. The whole place was loud and hot and generally unpleasant. But at the same time, to Jenny it was freedom. It was the first sense of normality she had had in a long time – even if it was by no means normal.

The agent followed her up the stairs into the luxury plane. "This is the Directors personal plane, but it is less conspicuous that an Israeli Military jet flying into US airspace." He said, and she nodded, agreeing with him. After all the redhead was not going to complain about being flown home in luxury. "You will land in DC, and NCIS have arranged for someone called Noemi to collect you?"

"My housekeeper." Jenny said, smiling at the familiar name.

The Officer nodded before walking out again and Jenny sat down on one of the chairs. She saw there was a bottle of water on the table, along with multiple repacked snacks in case she got hungry. Next to it was a green bag with a white cross on it which the red head assumed contained all of the medical things she might need. Jenny looked out of the window beside her at the commotion that was out there. Planes taking off and landing, officers running in and out of headquarters. A place which was nothing more than a small building on the surface, which confirmed that, the rest of the building was underground.

Soon the door was closed by a man, who never even looked at her, and then the engines were rumbling and she was fastening her seatbelt. And faster than she had ever even imagined was possible, she was leaving Israel behind and heading home. One they were cruising in the air she leant her head again the fake leather material on the wall, and closed her eyes. She might as well sleep, because this was going to be one hell of a long flight.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, the flight did not seem to last an eternity. Jenny guessed she had spent too much time flying and travelling with Gibbs over the years because she spent the whole flight sleeping, and only woke up five minutes before they were about to land. When she woke up, she looked down and out of the window to see her home. She saw the country she had lived in her entire life pass by beneath her, and she began to be able to spot the familiar landmarks that had played whiteness to her life.<p>

As they landed, she watched the city get closer, and found herself smiling. She'd never particularly liked the landing part of flying, but this was the one time she was able to deal with it. This time it meant something amazing, because for the first time in over six months she was back on US soil.

Jenny Shepard was home.

Walking off the plane she found herself slightly nervous, because she didn't know what the next few weeks would bring. She had no idea what day they were or what month it was, she had no idea what time it was, all she knew was that she was home, and for now that was all she needed to know. Jenny would go home and sleep, then wake up, and go into headquarters because she knew that she would need to talk to Marrow. She would need to thank the entire agency.

What she would do after that though? That she did not know, and for now she once more did not care. The red head was escorted by airport security through passport control, because she had no passport. But being a federal agent had its perks. Marrow had spoken to the SecNav who had sorted out her arrival. Then, she walked through a small door and found herself in the exit of the airport. A light, air conditioned room which was filled with people waiting for their loved ones. And there, at the back of the all, by the window, was Noemi.

Jenny slowly made her way over, smiling at the sights around her. The business men returning home from trips and those arriving for trips, then Jenny dodged the tourists who were excitedly making their way to their holiday coaches and watched out for children running wild. Usually, she would have hated the noise and madness of the place, but today she didn't care.

Her eyes hit Noemi and she watched as the Hispanic woman noticed her and as her face I turn lit up with happiness, then dropped with fear. The first thing Jenny said was: "I'm Fine Noemi, I promise."

"Oh Senorita!" The woman said, cupping Jenny's face and looking at all of the scars. "Why do you do this to me?!" She questioned, before whispering a prayer in Spanish and then turning serious.

"I am sorry Noemi." Jenny added with a small smile.

"We take you home now, and we make you food, you are skinny!" And with that the two polar opposite women made their way over to a taxi. Jenny didn't show it, but it took a lot to get her in the car, because she had not been it one since the attack. The whole way home her heart beat a mile a minute. She had to force herself to breath in and out, then when they arrived at the brownstone, she practically leapt out of the car.

Noemi paid, the taxi drove away, and Jenny stared at her house. A feeling of safety washed over her. And as she closed her eyes she relished in the sound of traffic, people and laughter around her. She was back.

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><p><strong>Author's Note <strong>

_I sincerely apologise, anyone who follows me on twitter or tumblr will be aware that i am currently sitting my AS exams (4 down 7 to go), and consequently that is where all of my time and effort is going. So for that reason my updates are lagging behind. Please stick with me, the story is beginning to move on, and will hopefully have some cute Jibbs moments soon. _

_Thanks, and please review, they really do remind me why i do this. _

_Abs xx_


	18. A Vulnerable Trait

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

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><p><em><strong>A Vulnerable Trait<strong>_

'_Pour me something stronger,  
>Pour me something straight,<br>All these crooked voices, make them go away,  
>I can barely stand up,<br>I can hardly breathe,  
>Pour me something stronger than me.'<br>-Connie Britton, Stronger Than Me_

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><p>It was surreal; to wake up in her <em>own<em> double bed, in her _own_ Georgetown house, to the sight of the sun splintering through her _own_ window. The feeling of being surrounded by her thick clean duvet that smelt of safety. The smell of the same washing powder Noemi had always used as long as she had worked for Jenny. In one sense everything was so familiar, yet in another it was alien. The bed had not been the one that she slept in for so many months, the house had not been the one she lived in and the window not the one she looked out of for what seemed like an eternity. The life she was about to lead again seemed so distant, Jenny had gotten to the point where she didn't know who she was anymore. Jennifer Shepard the agent was someone she was going to have to work hard and search to find and get back.

She laid there, head nestled in her pillow and body still in comfort. The house was silent, Noemi had not left until late the previous night, too scared that something would happen to her boss and she'd be gone yet again. The red head knew that even though she'd told the Hispanic woman to take the day off she wouldn't. Noemi would walk through that old oak door, like she no doubt had done every day that Jenny had been away. Even though she would be going against Jenny's wishes, the red head would not mind. The agent knew that having another person in the house may just help keep her demons at bay for a little while longer.

Turning to look at the clock beside her she groaned. The red letters read that it was well past 10 in the morning. She knew that whilst the Director was not expecting her to step foot in NCIS for a good week, today she would do just that. There were too many people she had to thank to stay at home wallowing in her own self pity. Too many people whom she was in debt to, who had worked late into the night and early into the morning when others had lost all hope of finding her.

It may not be expected of her by others, but she expected it of herself.

Running a hand down her face she felt the cuts and scars raised up on her skin. Each of them making her feel even more broken and damaged than the last. With all the motivation she could muster she threw the white duvet cover off herself and slowly made her way out of bed. Around her abdomen still held the taping to keep her ribs in place and help them to heal, and so her movements were slow and jagged. Even with the tape on they hurt. The pain meds she'd been given in Cairo had long since worn off and left her system. But she was hesitant to take anymore.

When she walked into headquarters later that day she knew that she would be facing the team. She'd be facing Will and Stan, two men she did not want seeing her any weaker than she was. She'd be seeing Gibbs, the man with so much pride it was contagious. Part of her wanted to prove that she could cope just as much as he could – that she didn't need protecting. If she was doped up on painkillers then she could not do that – she'd be even more vulnerable to attack.

When she made it into her en suite bathroom she smiled at the sight that met her eyes. Noemi had been out and bought all her favourite toiletries, something that was so normal, so every day – but made Jenny's day. Slowly, and awkwardly she removed the tape from her abdomen and turned on the shower.

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><p>Half an hour later the red head felt human again. Her hair was dry and she was wrapped in a thick fluffy pink towel, stood in her wardrobe deciding what to wear. She'd already put more tape around her abdomen, as awkward as it had been to do so. And as she looked at the clothes, she felt like they weren't hers anymore. Each outfit had been worn by a Jenny who was younger and had fewer demons. A Jenny who didn't have scars to hide.<p>

Walking to the end of the rail she pushed a few clothes away and picked up an oversized red USMC hoodie. One that she fondly remembered pinching back before Paris. The fabric was soft, thick and well worn. The lettering was faded, but as she placed it under her nose she could still smell the bourbon and sawdust. Grabbing a pair of leggings as well, she slowly got changed into the garments and pulled on a pair of well worn baseball boots.

She was about to not look in the mirror, ashamed of the way she looked. But out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of herself. The woman who stared back at her was not the woman who had left. The leggings she wore clung to her legs, legs which were half the size of what they had once been. Gibbs' hoodie made her look the size of a child, weak and feeble. Then she saw her face. The red head was sans makeup because she knew it would do nothing but make her cuts look even worse. Her cheek bones were prominent, eyes deeper set and dull. Their usual sparkle diminished by recent events. The red hair that framed her face repulsed her. The stands were messy, the ends split, and it was all various lengths due to tortures. A constant reminder of the hell she had been forced to endure. Picking up a bobble off of the side she tied her hair up into a long ponytail, making a mental note as she did so to get it cut when she got the chance.

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><p>Outside the sun was hidden behind a cloud, the air was warm, but she was cold. The Navy Yard was as it always was, nothing had changed. But to Jenny it felt bigger and busier than it ever had before. Men and women were rushing around in their uniforms, people were shouting and agents were coming and going. When she finally got to the NCIS headquarters she stood there looking at it. At the board which held its name in gold metal letters. At the entrance, and at the height of it, towering over the street – over her.<p>

"Can I help you ma'am?" A marine obviously visiting the naval base questioned her. She turned to look at him, feeling a sense of realisation as she saw his face. The dark brown hair, short at the sides yet longer on top. The slight creases around his eyes from smiling, high cheekbones – but not feminine. Tall, muscular… "Jenny?"

"Mark?" She questioned, remembering just where she knew him from. Back when Gibbs had been on honeymoon and she'd been the boss, back when she was frustrated at his apparent blindness to her feelings, Mark was the marine she had met who was about to be deployed. The man she'd met on Friday night and stayed with until Sunday – it had certainly been on hell of a weekend.

"Are you okay? I mean you look-"

"Terrible, I know. How was the tour?" She questioned, it was purely delay tactics. If she was outside then she was not facing Gibbs, not seeing the looks of sympathy on the faces of those she knew.

"It was hard. Look erm, that weekend it was fun. You fancy doing it again sometime?"

Jenny couldn't help but laugh as she looked at him. "I'm a bit worse for wear right now, got a broken rib or two, how about coffee some time, and we take a rain check on the weekend?" The red head knew she was pushing it, both of them had only really expected it to be a onetime thing and purely physical. Yet she was attracted to him – she couldn't deny that – and maybe if he could look past her current appearance then he could be attracted to her.

"It's a deal." He said, pulling out a pen and a scrap of paper and handing it to the red head after he'd written on it. "Call me." And with that he walked away, Jenny laughed to herself. She felt like rubbish, as though an elephant had danced on her, and yet seeing him again, out of the blue, completely by chance . . . maybe if nothing it else it was simply a good omen.

And if not, if it was something else, then all the better for it.

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><p>The lift dinged as it reached the bull pen, but it was just another day at the office for everyone else, so no one looked around. No one watched as the red head stepped out of the metal lift for the first time in month. None of them saw the look of fear that swept over her face momentarily before a wall went up. This place had always been home, but she'd never been weak walking into it. In that moment she felt like an outsider, because the red head was well aware of the fact that there had been numerous rumours about her circling in her absence.<p>

She just hoped she had the strength to prove them were only rumours.

As she walked over toward the familiar area which enclosed her team, she pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down over her hands. Hoping she could shield some of the scars from view. But they weren't on her hands, they were on her face.

Out of the three men who sat at their desks it was Stan who saw her first, then will, then Gibbs when he had hung up on the phone. "Jeez Red you look awful!" Was Stan's not so flattering statement at her appearance. But none the less she smiled all the same. Knowing it was just his way of showing affection. He came forward and hugged the red head, only briefly, but long enough for her to know that he cared. And it meant a hell of a lot to her.

"It's good to see ya Shep." Will said, walking over and hugging her too. She smiled as her did so, and swallowed her emotions as he whispered; "Don't do that to us again." in her ear. When they parted she looked at them both and felt relief wash over her. As nervous as she had been about looking vulnerable in front of them, now she knew that she had been silly to do so. Because these two were her brothers.

"Thank you both, for everything." She said, smiling as she placed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. But for those two the emotional moment had passed.

"Yeah, well Gibbs has been a nightmare without you, and I've got a permanent headache from the head slaps." Stan said, as both men returned to their desks. Jenny turned to look at Gibbs himself, stood by his desk, just far enough away to give the younger agent space. She smiled at him, and could see the guilt radiating off of the former marine. Jenny could feel his eyes raking over her body searching for any and every bruise, scar and cut.

"It's good to have you back Jen." He said softly, as he looked over at her, and she smiled at him. Because there it was, the use of the nickname he had adopted for her in Paris what felt like a lifetime ago.

"It's good to be back." And with that she began to walk up the stairs to MTAC. The red headed field agent was well aware of the fact that in the next few months she and Gibbs would have a lot to work through. There were the arguments which had taken place before she left and there was the brief conversation that had happened in the alleyway in Moscow. But they were family, and he had had her back. Gibbs may not have been there when she got taken – something she knew his guilt over would never subside – but he had been there trying to find her.

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><p>The Directors secretary looked like she was about to faint at the sight of Jenny. In actual fact it took Jenny asking her for her to actually say anything. "Is he free?" She asked, but the only response she got was a subtle nod of the head. Jenny rolled her eyes and softly knocked on the metal door before opening. His secretary still didn't say a word.<p>

Tom Marrow looked up from his piece of paper to see a tired, battered and bruised woman enter his office. And as Jenny looked over at him, smiling as she closed the door behind her, she saw the age that was on his face. In all the years she had been at the agency, she had a hard time remembering a time when their director had looked any different. But today he looked tired; he looked like he had been through the wars. And she wondered just how much grief her disappearance had caused him.

"Jenny?!" His voice was half questioning surprise and half sheer amazement. Her lips twitched up at the sides when she heard his intonation.

"Hello sir." She replied, slowly walking over and sitting down on the chair opposite. The standing around outside and then in the bull pen was taking its toll. The chairs were leather; with a hard straight back that made her sit up straight and probably did a lot of good for her ribs.

"I was not expecting to see you here for another week at least." He stated. Most agents would finally step foot in the agency a month later, he'd expected Jenny to do so a week later, she however had done so a day later. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I look." She answered, not entirely sure if that was the truth or not. All she knew was that being back in the headquarters, seeing the people she considered family, had lifted her spirits. She knew what she had to do, that she had to build up her strength, and then she'd be back.

"Well I'm glad." He said, and both smiled softly at the comment. "You didn't have to come in so soon." Jenny just nodded and looked down at her fingers.

"So many of you did so much, you, you all did-"She blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "Thank you." She said, looking up at the director whom she had grown close to over the years. "Thank you a million times over." Her voice was raw with emotion, and it made his heart swell. She and Gibbs were part of the NCIS that had broken the rules, done what had to be done and was at the bottom of the food chain. Agents weren't all like that anymore, but Gibbs' team was, and Tom was pretty sure that they always would be – something which would cause him no end of stress.

"You're welcome Jenny. We weren't going to have you not coming home."

"Thanks." She said again, before straightening up and looking at him once more. "I'll be back in a fortnight at most-"

"-You don't have to, take as much time off as you want."

But the red head just shook her head, she didn't say a word but he knew in her heart that she had to get home. That she had to make her way back to normality as soon as possible. While other agency director would frown on his for his leniency over the matters, he really didn't care. He was looking after his agent. She would have Gibbs, Stan and Will all looking out for her. And anyway, _he _was part of the old NCIS, just like Gibbs and the woman in question were.

"Well then, I'll see you when you're ready agent Shepard." Jenny and the Director exchanged a friendly smile, and then she stood up slowly and left. Tom didn't miss the small wince of pain that passed across her face as she stood up to leave. But he remained silent, knowing all too well that she felt vulnerable enough without his prying questions as to her pain.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading, i know Jenny seams to be flicking around a bit and she will for the next few chapters as will the timings. But i need to move the story along. Hope you all enjoyed, please go check out my new NCIS NCIS:LA crossover one shot where Hetty and Jenny meet. <em>

_Please Review!_


	19. We Can't go Back

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _Jibbs ahead ... just not the kind you want - Sorry! (I'm really not, i'm dragging this out to make y'all suffer!)_

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><p><em><strong>We Can't go Back<strong>_

'_And if you know what's good for you__  
><em>_You'll just let her go__  
><em>_Don't end up next to me in her sideshow'  
>-Charles Esten, Sideshow<em>

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><p>It was three months later that Gibbs and Jenny finally had to face up to the reality of their situation. She may well have come back to work a week and half after she returned state side, but that didn't mean they had actually faced the reality of their situation. In fact they did anything but, they danced around one another, making it look to everyone who didn't know them that it was all hunky dory. But the reality of the situation was far from that. Jenny and Gibbs didn't speak about the arguments which had taken place before the op commenced, they didn't speak about the argument in the alley in Moscow or the time during her abduction.<p>

It took a month and a half for Gibbs to actually allow the red head back in the field, and by that time she was pushing her body harder than ever before. She would hit the gym before work, and then after until she was so tired she almost collapsed. Jenny was eating healthier than she had in a long time, and gradually building her strength back up. She'd slowly eased herself onto the punch bag, and was teaching herself to fight just like Ziva had. Wracking her brain to remember the stance she needed, and the way she held herself.

So, by the time three months back in the US had passed, everything looked from the outside like it was normal. But Ducky, the wise doctor down in autopsy, watched his friends closely and knew that that was far from the truth. He saw the way Jenny was taking out all of her pain, fear and stress out on the training. How she was pushing her body further than it should be able to go only months after major injuries. Ducky could see the change in her, could see how since she had come back she had almost isolated herself from them all. For instance she'd chosen to go to the gym instead of out for a drink. He knew why, of course, he may not be a trained psychologist but it was evident that she was pushing herself so that she would be able to fight them next time.

Yet Jenny wasn't the only one Ducky had seen the change in Gibbs was not the man he had been. The whole time she had been taken the man had pretty much lived to find her, hoping that when she returned everything would be normal. It would all go back to how it had been all those years ago before covert operations clouded and blurred their relationship. However it would never be like that again, Jenny had been bruised, battered and practically broken in Cairo. Gibbs wasn't able to deal with that though, the knowledge that in his mind it had been his fault was too much to swallow. The guilt was drowning him.

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><p>As it turned out, coffee with Mark the Marine had resulted in being a lot more pleasant than she had anticipated, and since then she'd seen him numerous times. Jenny had discovered that she like his companionship, they laughed and joked and nothing came with any promises. They'd have some fun and mess around, but there a reassuring feeling that if either of them wanted, then there was the chance of it being something else. It was almost like a little note in the background just in case it ever felt right.<p>

Each time they met up, Mark saw the change in Jenny, the build up of strength and confidence. She didn't really speak about work to him, just as he didn't to her. Both knew that what they did was dangerous. What they had was comfort, but not the sort where you talked it out. Their comfort was ignorance, pretending it wasn't there even for just a little while. It was like a funny film where you could tune out of reality. Truth was, it was what both of them needed.

Will and Stan had clicked on that she was seeing someone, although she hadn't told them who. They'd noticed the odd text message being sent, or the way she would leave a decent hour once or twice every week. Stan and Will had welcomed the news in their usual joking way, but inside both hoped it would help the red head, both hoped that she would manage to move on from whoever it was that had been holding her heart for so long. Neither knew of course, that that man had been Jethro. Not even the man himself knew.

_That _Agent, had felt more than a little confused at the red heads appearance on the dating scene. Slightly concerned as to where this man had come from. But he could not comment, because in recent weeks he'd been desperately trying to resurrect things with Stephanie. He left before 7 most nights, and made sure to at least see her when he got home. However, the cracks in their marriage that had appeared when they'd been in Russia were still there.

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><p>Even though Jenny and Gibbs' lives had began to move on, neither had faced their past, until that day. Jenny had been back in the field. All four of them were apprehending a suspect – who didn't want to come in – when it all went slightly mad, and that was why she was currently walking up Gibbs' front path, ready to rip him a new one. Something he was by no means expecting as he stood in his basement sanding his boat seemingly without a care in the world.<p>

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><p>"<em>Federal Agents!" The all shouted in unison as they surrounded the man whom was getting out of his car. The multi-storey car park allowed reasonable visibility and shelter behind the concrete pillars. The third floor meant that they didn't have to worry about him jumping over the edge which provided nothing but a sheer drop onto the busy road below – a near certain death. Additionally they were far enough away from any ramps to be confident he couldn't get away. <em>

_So they were all expecting this to go smoothly-_

"_Hand where we can see them!" Gibbs shouted as all four slowly began to move forward in an ever shirking circle._

_-what they weren't expecting was the gun that was soon to be revealed. _

_His hands slowly moved up to his head, reassuring them all. Jenny began to make to steps forward holstering her gun and grabbing her handcuffs whilst the other three had her six. Just as she got close enough to take his wrist he pushed her back with so much force she hit the wall. Whilst the three men had momentary shock he grabbed the gun which was secured at the base of his spine. _

"_Put the gun down!" was shouted at him numerous times from numerous people in a wave of panic, he fired a shot, the sound echoing out through the car park. Not aimed to hurt but aimed to scare. To tell them that he was prepared to use the weapon. Then he aimed at Gibbs. Jenny was on the floor, and slowly blinked away the confusion. In one swift movement she put into practice what she had been teaching herself. _

_The red head kicked his legs out from underneath him which caused him to fall to the ground and drop his gun; he scrambled to get it whilst she went for him. They scrawled on the floor for all of thirty seconds before she had his hands behind his back and cuffed. The red head looked up to see the three men looking at her with raised eyebrows. _

"_Thank for the help." And with that she pulled him up from the ground and dragged him over to the car. Once she had locked the door she felt her head, and the blood running down. A few explicit words fell from her lips. _

"_You okay?" Gibbs questioned, walking over and looking at the blood. She just rolled her eyes and walked away. _

"_I'm not a damn invalid; if you'd stopped treating me like one months ago, you would have had your damn eyes on him and not me!" With that she walked over to the other car where Will was stood and got in, ready to go and get Ducky to patch her up back at NCIS._

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><p>She'd ignored them for the rest of the afternoon, written her report, left it on Gibbs' desk and headed off to the gym. As it turned out she had only scraped her head on the rough concrete and thankfully didn't had a concussion, but Ducky had given her some pain meds just encase she got a headache – which she would not take anyway.<p>

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><p>The sky was black, barely a star was in sight, but the moon was full as it sat up there watching down on them all. As she walked up the path her heel clicked against the stone, until she stood still on the step. She'd always just walked in, and it would be so easy to just keep with that habit, but she couldn't do that anymore. They weren't those people anymore.<p>

So, as strange as it felt, and even though she knew the door would be unlocked, she knocked on the door. She had hoped that no one would answer and she'd get to run away from the argument that they were about to have. But the sound of footsteps and voices broke that illusion until she was stood face to face with the other redhead in his life. "Jenny?!" Stephanie said, half amazed at how good the woman looked after being kidnapped, and half completely confused as to why she was currently stood on her front step. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, erm, is Jethro in?"

"Yes." The red head said. "Come in, he's urm, he's in the basement. I'll-"

"-It's fine, I know where I'm going, sorry for barging in I need to speak to him about something."

"It's okay." Stephanie said, watching as the red head familiarly made her way to the basement.

Gibbs had heard her voice, but he was still surprised to see her when she walked down the steps. The sight of her made him realise that she wasn't quite so broken anymore. Dressed in a pair of stone washed skinny jeans, a black vest top and an Aztec patterned swing knit cardigan with dark fascia double ankle strapped, pointed toe heels on. She looked amazing, especially with her new haircut which meant that her hair hit just below her shoulder at the front and slightly shorter at the back. It had made her look younger, and more casual.

Ducky had commented on it to the silver aired agent, saying it was probably part of her recovery process, that she was reinventing herself. Gibbs just thought it suited her. As he looked at her lightly made up face coming down the stairs he wondered if she had been dressed to go and see the man she was currently dating, but he stopped himself from asking the question, reminding himself that it was not any of his business.

Walking over to the work bench he poured them both a mason jar of bourbon, handing it to her when she was close enough that his senses were overwhelmed by her perfume. She nodded in thanks, and he went back to his boat. "We need to talk Gibbs." She said, and he just sighed, knowing it was true.

"Do we?" He asked, and she huffed, running a finger through her hair and glaring at his back. Mentally admiring the way his muscles moved under the grey material of his t-shirt. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't still attracted to him, and part of her wondered if he still had some of her heart. But these days they were barely even friends, and she knew that with his marriage and her relationship – _was it a relationship? _- with Mark, they'd never get back to what they were or ever get to what at one point in time they could have been.

"Don't be a pain Jethro you know we do. One of us could have gotten killed today and it's all because you're dolly coddling me!" She said in a harsh tone barely more than a whisper. This wasn't her house after all, it was his. More than that though, was that it was his wife's house too, she had not right to kick up a fuss.

"We had control of the situation, if you hadn't have moved in so soon-"

"Ah don't blame this on me! I'm not some probie who is intimidated by you Jethro." He just looked at her, running a rough hand through his more salt than pepper hair and seeing the woman in front of him. It didn't seem two minutes ago that she was sat down in his basement shaking uncontrollably because she had just shot someone for the first time – a damn good shot if he remembered rightly. Now, well he's be lying if he said he knew exactly who Jennifer Shepard was these days.

"I never said you were Jenny, doesn't mean it wasn't a probie mistake." He knew what he was saying was harsh, but he'd had his eyes on her because he was scared of losing her. Knowing it was him that nearly got her hurt once more, it just added fuel to the fire of his guilt.

"Jethro, stop being so damn high and mighty. This isn't about today, this is about every damn fight we have had since Paris-"

"We spoke about that-"

"-No we brushed it under the carpet. We can't carry on like this; _I _can't carry on like this. I went on a mission, I was kidnapped, abducted –whatever you want to call it- but it was no one's fault."

"I should have had your six-"

"You weren't allowed in the damn area. Look, yes I blamed you at first, but I don't anymore."

"If I hadn't have been with Stephanie-"

"Then what? You could have been taken too? Then when would we have been found?! Never!"

"You don't know that!" He swore, dropping the sanding block to the floor. The sound clattered around the room, and she looked down at the glass in her hands. At the auburn liquid that always reminded her of him. That he had first introduced her to.

"We can't go on like this."

"Well why are you here Jenny? You're new play toy throw you out?" It was a low blow, a harsh blow, and as he looked at her he knew he'd gone too far. But all of this had brought out emotions he'd managed to bury down so deep. Things he hadn't felt since Paris. And it took a hell of a lot of self control to remember that his wife was upstairs.

"Is that what this is about? I'm finally the one who is happy, and you're jealous because you can't make your damn marriage work?!"

Stephanie was stood upstairs, not that Jenny or Gibbs cared to know. But she listened, knowing what the other woman was saying was true. She'd been told by so many people how Jenny and Gibbs were a package deal, if she wanted him she'd have to accept the presence of the other red head. Yet throughout her marriage she noticed that that had never been the case. Listening now she knew something had happened, unfortunately for her and Gibbs' marriage timing had been poor. She guessed that had something to do with the friendship rupture.

"My marriage is none of your concern!" Gibbs shouted back, on the defence.

"Yeah, well neither is my relationship Jethro. You know what, there was a time not that long ago where I though the sun shone from you, I thought you were God. And you know what, maybe in Paris I fell for you – maybe. But I never ruined your relationship, never."

"What the hell are you on about Jenny?!" She looked at him, knowing she'd said too much.

"I can't carry on dancing around you. From now on, I'll leave you to your life if you leave me to mine. Just don't treat me like a child – I can take care of myself." Standing up she began to walk over to the stairs.

"You're not gonna explain what you just said?" He questioned, more confused now that he had been all year.

She looked at him, the bright cyan eyes, the gently wrinkled face, his salt and pepper marine cut hair that never changed, and ring on his left index finger that caught the light from upstairs. "No, no I'm not. I'm gonna go and you're gonna forget what I said. We both need to remember we're not the people we were back before Paris. Maybe if we can do that then we can begin to patch things up."

He gazed at her, as she left, wanting to stop her but still comprehending everything that she'd said. As Jenny left, she saw Stephanie, but avoided her gaze like the plague. Jenny knew the other woman had listened in, and she couldn't blame her. The agent knew that if their roles had been reversed then she would have done the same. But that didn't mean that she could catch her eye.

So, the red head left without another word, and headed back to her car, sighing softly as she got in. She rested her head against the head restraint and closed her eyes. Blindly she fished her phone out of her pocked and called the number which was now so familiar to her.

"Hey." Said a familiar voice. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, she replied, it will be if you're free." And the soft rumble of Marks laughter filled her ears, as it did Jenny smiled, maybe the little not in the back of their relationship would feel right reasonably soon – or at least, she hoped so anyway.

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><p><em>Told ya it wasn't what you wanted! OH well, if ya review i might give you Jibbs fluffiness sooner, the less reviews the longer Mark sticks around - i kinda like him after all . . . <em>


	20. New Game Rules

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _Thanks to all of you who reviewed, i only have a week left of exams so then i hope i should be able to write more. To any of yas who have blogger or bloglovin', i have a new blog call 'shabs' so please go and follow that!_

_For the meantime though, i'm afraid Mark is still of the scene..._

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><p><em><strong>New Game Rules<strong>_

'_We heard all our stories a thousand time,  
>Somebody go on and tell 'em again, ain't nobody gonna mind,<em>_  
><em>_Here's to the good ole boy, the guitars that made the noise,__  
><em>_And all the girls that we annoyed, and the ones we kissed goodnight,__  
><em>_To the trucks that drove us home, secrets we never told,__  
><em>_And all the talks on old dirt roads that somehow changed our lives,__  
><em>_Here's to the nights we don't remember and the friends we won't forget.'  
>-Lee Brice, Friends we won't forget<em>

* * *

><p>Weeks turned into months, and in DC life began to fall into a new type of normal. There wasn't the same atmosphere there had once been, but it didn't take long for them all to realise it wouldn't be getting any better anytime soon and so it was time to adjust. The leaves turned to reds then gold's and then they carpeted the floors of the city, paving the way for the brisk winter winds. The snow began to fall and a magical winter wonderland captivated the streets and houses. Children wore smiles, and everything began to feel a little but more festive as Thanksgiving passed and Christmas came and went.<p>

Thanksgiving as per usual had been spent at Ducky's house with his mother. Jethro had cut the turkey whilst Mrs Mallard sat to his left and his wife to his right. She had wanted to spend the occasion with her family, but had begrudgingly accepted that this was his family and consequently hers too. So, she had sat and listened to the old tales spouted from both the Mallards, watched as Jenny, Stan and Will acted like children out in the snow. For a woman who had never experienced a friendship as unusual as this one, the holiday was slightly obscure.

It was like a family where no one was actually related and no one had a set role. One minute you were a wife, the next a mother then a daughter.

Then at Christmas they all did their own thing, Gibbs and Stephanie went to spend the holiday with her sister Heather and her children. Compared to the thanksgiving meal this was a completely different type of family, where everything had a little less sparkle and everyone was bothered about how everyone else felt. For Gibbs, _that day _was the strange one. A day when he did not quite know where he fit in or what he was supposed to do or say.

Stan and Will didn't do much; they just met up for a few drinks and spent some time with some long lost friends. Jenny saw Mark on Christmas Eve before he flew out to Ireland for a few of days to see his family. The red head however spent the day curled up on the sofa watching White Christmas and other soppy festive movies. The same thing she did every year, shrouded in her memories from back when a family had lived the big brownstone house.

But New Years Eve was a different occasion. Stephanie had decided that because they all imposed on the older Scotsman at Thanksgiving it was their turn to host. So, she'd picked up a pad, practically chained Gibbs to the seat and forced him to help her plan. She'd written down their guests, friends who had been at their wedding, people she worked with, Tobias Fornell-

* * *

><p>"<em>Do we have to invite Tobias?" Gibbs questioned, groaning at the thought of the occasion already. He picked up his steaming coffee in the Starbucks printed mug Jenny had bought him before they flew out to Paris; 'because at least that way he could pretend he had his Jamaican Blend'; and took a large gulp, feeling the liquid burn his throat as it slid down. <em>

"_Yes, he's your friend and it's only good manners." Stephanie said as she wrote his name down in her straight rounded writing,. Taking care to make sure each letter was the same height. _

"_If we invite Tobias then he'd gonna bring Diane, and she already hates my guts."_

"_Then it's the perfect opportunity to build some bridges."_

"_Steph-"_

"_-No arguments Jethro, anyone would think that you didn't want this party to go ahead." She said, rolling her eyes and not realising that in actual fact he didn't want that._

* * *

><p>-She'd also written down the names of Ducky, Tom Marrow, Will, Stan and Jenny-<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Do you think we should invite her boyfriend as well, I heard Stan asking her about him at Doctor Mallard's the other week." Said Stephanie as she looked up from the jotter pad. Jethro just shrugged his shoulders though. He barely even knew about Jenny's boyfriend, in fact he didn't know anything when he actually thought about it. <em>

"_Dunno." _

"_Well maybe you should ask her to bring him, have you met him yet?"_

"_Nope." Gibbs replied, popping the 'p', not particularly wanting to meet the man. After the argument with Jenny in the basement he had done his best to stick to the new game rules. He didn't ask her about anything personal, tried to treat her like he treat Stan and Will. She did the same, but I was hard, especially after everything they'd been through. _

"_Well it would be the perfect opportunity, I'll write a plus one next to her name and you can tell me when you know if she is going to bring him." Gibbs gave a mumbled response before going to make another cup of coffee. Thinking how he could avoid asking her and pretend as though he had simply forgotten about it._

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><p>-Everyone Gibbs knew had been invited.<p>

So, two night before New Year's Eve the team were all gathered in the bull pen, finishing up some case reports that Marrow wanted done before the New Year began and the cases started up again. Stan and Will were down in the break room hitting the vending machine to get food out so that they didn't have to pay, Jenny was writing away at her desk and Gibbs was staring off into space.

His mind was elsewhere. The atmosphere was not as bad between them as it had been directly after the argument, but neither really spoke unless it was about work. It worried him and hurt him, because it had been Jenny who helped him get through the whole Paris fiasco, just as much as he had helped her. It had been Jenny who forced him to go see Ducky after he got scraped on the job. It was Jenny who held his hand whilst ducky dug a bullet out and he feinted in and out of consciousness when they were undercover. It had been Jenny whom had always been there. He didn't know what had made them get to where they were now, and that was something which kept him awake at night. That and what she had said that night in his basement.

Part of him wondered if she had loved him, but he still thought it a stupid idea. She was young and beautiful, passionate and had the world at her feet. She had been caught up in a hell, maybe she hadn't known truly what she was feeling back then. Maybe she had interpreted it wrong, or maybe he had.

The lift dinged as the doors opened, and he flicked his eyes open to see Stephanie walking into the bullpen and over to his desk. She was no doubt there to drag him to go and get food for the party – something that was proving one hell of a pain in his ass. All he ever heard at home was 'the party this' and 'New Years Eve that'. He tuned out half the time, and would be glad when the whole thing was over.

"Hey." She said, and stood up and grabbed his jacket off of the back of his chair where he had left it after his last coffee run. "Jenny, did Jethro ask you about New Years Eve?"

The red head looked up from her case file, a piece of paper covered in her curling script, and smiled politely at the other woman. "Yeah, I'm not sure, Mark gets back tonight and I'm not sure if he wants to do something."

"I told Jethro to invite him as well, I'm sure everyone would love to meet this mystery man of yours."

Jenny smiled softly. As it turned out without either one of them saying anything that little note in the background had come into play. Mark and her saw each other most days, and slept over at the others' house most nights. It was easy, and calm, and fun. But there had begun to be a sense a commitment in it. She didn't notice anyone else and she'd met a few of his mates who had said he'd spoken about her. The thought of everyone she worked with meeting him scared her, but if things carried on then she knew it would have to happen soon enough. "I'll ask him tonight."

"Good, I hope we get to see him." The red head turned back to her husband and raised an eyebrow, he nodded, telling her that he was ready to go. And with that they most left.

"Night Jenny." Jethro said, and she smiled back, before looking down at the case file and carrying on writing. The smile was meaningful one, one that said she was thankful he hadn't pried about where Mark had been or what they might have planned. He was respecting the new game rules, and that pleased her as much as it hurt her.

She stayed a while longer, finishing writing up her case file until it was done and sat on Gibbs' desk awaiting his inspection. Stan and Will had still yet to reappear and she guessed that they'd found something to occupy themselves with. Her eyes cast out the window at the snow covered city. Winter would never be the same for her again. The snow and the cold reminded her of the hell that had been Moscow. Every time she saw it, a cold shiver that had nothing to do with the weather, ran down her spine.

Running a hand through her hair she stood up and grabbed her black woollen coat and bag. She pulled on her green woollen scarf and wrapped up before heading out of headquarters and making her way to the airport to pick Mark up just as she had promised; so he didn't have to pay for parking or a taxi – or at least that was the reason she had said. The red head knew the real reason was that she had missed him.

* * *

><p>The sun had long since set on the city, the CD player was playing Shania Twain – Jenny's choice – and they sat on the sofa in the living room of her brownstone. A half empty pizza box sat on the coffee table, and she had her feet on his knee. There was no sound between the pair, just the love songs that were playing. The red head looked down at her chipped nail polish she had meant to re-paint.<p>

"What's up?" Mark questioned, leaning over and taking her hand. His were smooth, and she looked over at his soft face. The dark brown hair, and typically handsome features. His eyes which were like pools of chocolate, warm and caring.

"I-"She cut off, she was about to ask him about the party but was half scared he'd say no. As though she had interpreted their relationship in the wrong way. His thumb rubbed the top of her hand, as though reassuring her. "Stephanie and Gibbs are having a party for New Years Eve." She said pausing as her eyes flicked up to look at him.

"You should go." He said, smiling softly.

"Will you come with me? You don't have to say yes, but I think maybe it's time you met everyone, but only if you want to-"

"You're rambling." He said, softly, making her laugh. "I'd love to come with you."

The red head hadn't expected that his answer would make her feel as happy as it did. She hadn't expected the smile that spread across her face, and the one on his that matched hers. "Thank you." She said, as she leant across and hugged him, softly kissing him on the lips before returning to her seat, her hand remaining in his as they sat there talking. She told him who would be there, about the relationship Gibbs and Diane had, and how the woman had a vengeance against her. Jenny told him about how Tobias was now married to Diane, something that made him laugh. And the whole time she tried to avoid letting on just how bad things were with her partner.

* * *

><p>"Jenny, you do realise we're already late right?" Mark shouted up the stairs, laughing the whole time. She was still getting ready, on what must be her fiftieth outfit of the evening. Of course he didn't understand what the problem was, but for the sake of his health had remained downstairs dressed in his jeans and shirt whilst he waited.<p>

"I'm nearly ready!" She shouted down, laughing in the same manner he had. She turned to the mirror and looked over her appearance. She had on a lightly patterned brown woollen tulip skirt which hit mid thigh, a pair of thick black tights, a white jumper with a statement necklace, a thin tan brown belt and mid calf height worn brown boots with a chunky heel – she couldn't go sans heal after all!

She unplugged her curling tongues and grabbed her dark red lipstick before shoving it in the pocket of her leather jacket and shrugging that on as well. Mark hadn't seen her outfit, she'd been stood in her underwear throwing clothing all over the place last thing he saw – no doubt how he would have preferred she stay.

Her stomach was like a jar containing butterflies as she stood there. The thought of the evening already scaring the hell out of her. Part of her cared what they all thought of him, the part of her didn't, after all it was none of her business. She wondered if he'd felt nervous when he'd introduced her to his navy mates, but she doubted it.

Taking a deep breath she left her room, flicking the light switch as she went, and then made her way downstairs. He was stood at the bottom before she reached it, his own jacket on and ready to go. They were going to drive there then get a taxi back, pick up the car in the morning. "You look stunning." He said, and she blushed a little, softly kissing him before she stepped down onto the hardwood flooring.

"_Now _I'm ready." She stated, and he just smirked, they were certainly going to make an entrance with her looking like that. And so, they left her brownstone and headed to Gibbs' house not too far away. It was a familiar route, one she had driven countless times over the years, one she could drive with her eyes shut. As she got closer she got more and more nervous, so she reached across and took a hold of Marks hand.

"Why are you so nervous? Surely it should be me who is the one about to pee their pants?" He asked her, raising his eyebrows as he momentarily looked at her before looking back at the road.

"I know, it's just they mean so much to me, and so do you. If things don't go right . . ."

"Hey." He said, rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand just as he had done the previous night. "You mean an awful lot to me, and you no doubt mean an awful lot to them. That's enough to make us get on." They pulled up outside the familiar and comforting house. She just nodded, and then they got out and made their way up to the house. Jenny couldn't help, however, be overwhelmed by the memory of the argument that had taken place the last time she was at the house. The one that had completely changed things between them.

* * *

><p>The party was in full swing by the time Jenny and Mark walked in. Everyone had had a couple of drinks and seamed reasonably laid back. As they walked through the gate she smiled at the sight in front of her. Stan and Will were sat with a couple of women, both of whom did not look impressed, trying to flirt. Gibbs was stood by the barbeque with Tobias, both of them no doubt hiding from Diane for one reason or another – and it struck her that she might have to do the same thing too at one point in the evening. Ducky was talking to someone the red head didn't recognise, Stephanie was one her way over, and Diane was (thankfully) nowhere to be seen for the time being anyway.<p>

"Jenny, I'm so glad you could come." She said, hugging the redhead. Something that took Jenny aback. "You must be her mystery man. I'm Stephanie, it's lovely to meet you." She said, putting on a super sweat smile as she looked at Mark.

"It's lovely to meet you too, thank you for inviting me." He said, pulling Jenny closer to him as he felt her eyes wander – he was not letting her ditch him.

"You're more than welcome." Before Stephanie could say anything else, Stan and Will where calling her over to join them, and she made their excuses.

The couple walked over to the other two men, meeting them half way. Both were dressed in jeans and a shirt, Stan in Pink as he thought it made him look more masculine – Jenny didn't understand – and Will in a white shirt. She smiled as they met; sort of pleased she was dealing with them before anyone else. "Hey." She said softly. "Mark, meat Stan Burley and William Decker, Stan, Will this is Mark." She stepped away a little, allowing them all to say their hellos. Once more her eyes roamed. There was a little small talk before she heard Will say:

"So what are your intentions with Shep, then?" He questioned, Mark looked a little uncomfortable, turning to the red head for help, and Jenny just laughed.

"You're dealing with that one by yourself." She stated, pecking his cheek before walking away. She could feel Mark's eyes on her as she went, but decided to let Stan and Will get their banter over with before the evening got in full swing. She walked over to the barbeque where Gibbs and Tobias were hiding. "Is this where we hide from Diane?" She asked, looking over her shoulder as she mocked being scared. Gibbs rolled his eyes, but Tobias laughed.

"What have _you_ done?" The FBI agent questioned and Jenny shrugged her shoulders.

"If you believe her? Then me and Jethro here had some hot and steamy affair for the duration of their marriage." The fact that she had not even been on the scene for the majority of Gibbs and Diane's marriage made the whole thing stupid. It hurt her a lot less than it once had: taking the mick out of something she had wanted. And she wondered if that was because she was finally moving on.

"Woah?!" Tobias commented, mocking shock. "Why d;you never tell me this Jethro?!"

"Hmm, she's got it in for Jenny, God only knows why." Gibbs added as she carried on cooking the food. Tobias, typically, found this all very amusing after all anyone had to do was look at Jenny.

"What have you done now then?" Jenny probed as she looked over to see that Mark was still being pestered by her two team mates, only now looked a lot less scared than he had when she abandoned him.

"God only knows!" Gibbs and Jenny both laughed.

"If it makes ya feel any better she still won't even speak to me!" Gibbs said, taking a drink of the bourbon he had beside him. Jenny noted it, and thanked the gods that her partner had been in charge of deciding on the drinks and not his wife.

"That's even after hitting you over the head with a baseball bat?" Jenny asked, feinting innocence and confusion. The former marine grumbled an inaudible response rubbing his head at the thought of the night near the end of his marriage when he had turned up on Ducky's front step bleeding.

"You're joking!" Tobias exclaimed, Jenny just shook her head, trying to contain her laughter.

"I told you not to marry her." Gibbs grumbled, not getting any sympathy from his co-workers at all.

Gibbs flicked his eyes over Jenny's shoulder to see the man she had entered with walking over. Part of him said leg it while he still had the chance. But then he remembered it was technically his party and he couldn't do that.

Jenny felt him behind her knowing who it was from the scent of his aftershave, she felt his breath on her neck as he whispered; "Thanks for that Jenny." - Sarcastically. She just laughed a little, spinning around to look at him. Mark saw the sparkle in her eyes, and look the look of happiness. Jenny and Gibbs were laughing like the old days, and that made her so happy. Mark didn't know, of course, why that sparkle was there. But he was glad it was none the less.

"So what are your intentions with me?" She asked, mockingly with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He just laughed, raising his eyebrow, making her blush.

"Well first I'm going to get you drink, then I'm not going to let you leave me stranded to be interrogated again, then at midnight I'm going to kiss you." She felt her heart melt a little.

"I have to wait until midnight?!" But the moment was broken by Gibbs and Fornell coughing, as though reminded them they were still there. Jenny blushed a little, and then turned around to look back at her friends. "Gibbs, Tobias, this is Mark, Mark meet Gibbs – my partner – and Tobias, he's FBI so behave yourself." The agent just rolled his eyes and shook Marks hand whilst Gibbs nodded.

"It's good to meet you both." Mark said, then turned to Gibbs; "I've heard a lot about you sir, _mostly_ good."

"I doubt that." Gibbs replied. Eying Jenny, as things were he doubted there was a single word about him that fell from Jenny's lips about him that was good. But he appreciated the lie.

"I hope you don't mind but I'm gonna steal her back for a bit." And with that he lead Jenny over to the drinks table, where she looked at him thankfully. He'd known when to leave just before it got awkward and that meant a lot.

* * *

><p>The rest of the party went smoothly. They ate the burgers that Gibbs had cooked, and Stephanie was the perfect host, catering to everyone's needs but having fun too. Stan and Will had still failed to pull by the time midnight came, but neither really cared. That evening was about family, not women.<p>

So when midnight came they all chanted the countdown, each couple already in the arms of each other as they watched the sky, waiting for the familiar fireworks. When it got to 'one' Jenny and Mark looked in the eyes of one another, seeing the stars twinkling in the iris'. Then, when everyone cheered they softly kissed one another.

Gibbs and Stephanie gave each other a quick kiss.

Tobias and Diane even managed to kiss one another and a quick smile after.

Stan and Will, well they hugged one another, before going over and tacking Gibbs as they tried to kiss one another – they had certainly had too much to drink by that point.

Although Jenny laughed, she didn't say anything, instead she just hugged Mark, who, placed his mouth near her ear and whispered; "I might just be falling in love with you Jenny Shepard." She was taken aback, but him saying it made her heart swell, and in that moment, under a sky exploding with colour, surrounded by people she loved like family and ones he hoped he would soon know better, Jenny realised she felt exactly the same.

"I think I might just be falling in love with you too." She whispered, and he pulled back looking in her eyes, not having expected her to say it back. But she just nodded, smiling and biting her lip as though she were nervous. Mark beamed a thousand watt smile, a contagious smile and softly took her lips, and as they kissed she felt herself smiling. "Happy new year." She whispered when they parted, a smile on her face.

"Happy New Year to you too."

* * *

><p>They left not long after that, both wanting to celebrate the New Year coming in alone. So they said their goodbyes a little after half past one, once they'd both drunk the customary glass of fizz and ordered a taxi. They walked out of the house and down to the road when Jenny heard Gibbs' voice. "Jenny!" He said, jogging to meet her. "You got a minute?" She nodded, walking the small distance to him and telling Mark she would be there soon.<p>

"What's up?" She questioned, popping the 'p'. Jenny wasn't drunk, just a little tipsy. Knowing the director was somewhere around, and not wanting to get stick come the first day back from anyone she had been sensible. She could tell Gibbs was the same, she'd only seen him drunk a handful of times, most of them in Paris, and she could tell he wasn't now.

"I erm, I wanted to say; those things I said in the basement that night, they were wrong. You seem real happy, and . . . and I'm happy for you Jenny, you deserve it." His eyes met hers and she smiled. She was happy, that evening had taught her that. Jenny could feel she was ready to start a new chapter in her life – with Mark by her side.

"I am happy, happier than I've been in a long time. And for the record, what I said was out of order too. It's none of my business." Gibbs just shook his head, telling her he understood. Jenny smiled at him, casting her eyes to Mark who was waiting by the taxi. "I should go."

"Yeah, yeah, anyway, I'm pleased for you." He squeezed her hand and she squeezed his back.

"Thank you, it means a lot." And with that she left his house and went home with Mark. And as the taxi drove away she rested her head on his shoulder, smiling as she intertwined her fingers with his.

* * *

><p>"You okay?" Stephanie asked, walking up behind him as he watched the taxi which carried his partner leave. He nodded, turning to look at her.<p>

"Yeah, yeah I am now." And she knew that he had apologised. After hearing the argument in the basement that night, she had realised just how much of a bond there was between the two partners. After all to have that sort of argument there had to be an awful lot of feelings there. Seeing Jenny with her boyfriend, though, had confirmed that now at least, it was only friendship feelings. She hoped now that her husband would relax and their marriage would improve – but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her otherwise.

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><p><em>Reviews are greatly appreciated. I have to next few chapters planned out, i'm thinking at most another 6 chapters with Mark? He is an integral part of this story, but there is gonna be a bit more Jibbs in it too ;)<em>

__abs_


	21. The Golf Club Conundrum

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**AN **_Your reviews are incredible! Please keep them coming. You will all love this compared to how much you will hate the next chapter._

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><p><em><strong>The Golf Club Conundrum<strong>_

'_I've got my reasons for leaving.__  
><em>_I've got my reasons to stay, but baby if you want you can make me stop.__  
><em>_Yeah, you know what to say.__  
><em>_I just want you to tell me, strum the strings of my heart__  
><em>_'cause with our kind of love,__  
><em>_we always wind up getting tangled in the dark'  
>-Audrey Peoples, Tell Me<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>I can't do this anymore Jethro!" She shouted, teas rolling uncontrollably down her face as she stood there in the middle of his kitchen, shaking like a leaf. <em>

"_Ah, Steph." He murmured walking towards her. It felt like he'd seen this scene play before his eyes a hundred time before, and all in the last month since New Years. Her crying, him knowing it was all his fault, both of them denying the truth that they were fighting a losing battle. Every time nothing got resolved, every time they would end up tangled beneath the sheets - pretending like they wouldn't have another argument. _

"_No, Jethro; no. Not this time, this time I mean it." And he looked at her, as she fell to the wooden chair with a small thud. Her eyes watering like streams, her eyes red from the crying and her skin pale, his heart leapt out of his chest to her. Yet it was in a way as though she was a friend. He still cared, of course he still cared. He still loved her too, just these days he wasn't sure it was the sort of love a husband should feel towards his wife. _

"_Steph let's talk about this. We can make it work-"_

"_We're trying Jethro, we're _always_ trying, and I just. I need some time Gibbs, I need to think what _I_ want. I went to Moscow for _you, _I sat there and didn't say a word when I didn't see you for months because you were looking for Jenny. I've done more than a wife should have to, but right now…" She ran a hand though her hair, looking up at the shell shocked face in front of him. "I think you should find somewhere else to sleep."_

_And with that said she stood up and walked away, he heard her bare feet softly pad up the stairs and then the sound of the bedroom door closing. It was different to how fights with Diane had ended. Sure she had thrown him out but there had always been swearing, doors slamming. Part of his found the calmness and quietness of his current situation more intimidating that the loudness that Diane had delivered. He stood there, his eyes moving to the window which looked out over the garden. Gibbs ran a hand through his hair, the sound of her crying filling the house. Part of him told him to go, to leave like she had said. But instead he made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. _

_It was just as it had always been, never decorated, but there was a teal rug – he didn't even know what teal was - on the floor, and throw cushions on the bed. The marine quietly moved over, and was about to sit down; "Jethro I said go!" She shouted sitting up and moving off of the bed. _

"_Stephanie, let's talk-"_

"_Now you want to talk, after the whole of our marriage you want to talk now! Well I don't!"_

It was a blur what happened next, a blur of names and shouting and then her shouting for him to leave as she hit his head with a golf club. Of course she'd been so upset that she didn't even realise what she had done. Just relived when she saw that he was finally leaving.

With a stinging pain in his head he left. Doing the stupidest thing by getting in the car. Gibbs had not even thought about it, he'd just driven the familiar route to Jenny's Georgetown brownstone. It was only when he was parked outside, the house towering above him. That he realised just where he had driven. When he had realised that it was a Saturday afternoon and she might not be in, or worse might not want to see him.

The pain in his head got worst, he touched the spot and found it bleeding. Groaning he realised he was going to have to at least try and see her, because if he lost much more blood he might just end up passing out – something that would mean having to spend more time at home because he knew for a fact that Marrow would not let him work.

So, minding not to touch anything with his bloodied hand, he got out of the car and walked over to the big old wooden door, and cautiously knocked on it. He still had a key to her place, back just before Paris when they'd been close they'd given each other keys because that way if they ever needed anything they could just walk right in. The truth was though, if either of them had died whilst they were overseas then no doors would need to e broken down – and Jenny was quite fond of her front door.

The key was on his car key chain, but he wouldn't use it, not now anyway. Just as she had not used her key to his house since they returned stateside what felt like a lifetime ago. The sound of footsteps penetrated the door, and soon he was stood face to face with a slightly shocked Jennifer Shepard. She stood there, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation, dressed in an oversized 'NAVY' t-shirt he guessed belonged to Mark with leggings. Her hair was naturally curly with the sides clipped back so that they didn't bother her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, he was surprised by the soft and friendly tone in her voice. He'd expected an accusing one, but then again recently they'd be more polite. It wasn't anywhere near what they used to be, but since New Year's there was friendliness between them. But them being friends was a long way away.

"Stephanie kicked me out." He said, looking at her as she bit her lip, trying not laugh. "And erm, I could use a hand." He said, as he bent his head so that she could see the gash.

"Oh my gosh!" She mumbled, moving closer to examine the wound. She rolled her eyes, closed the door and looked at as though she were exasperated.

"Who is it Jenny?" Marks voice ran through the house, and Gibbs noticed the way she subconsciously smiled a little more at the sound of it. He was envious, that she'd managed to start a relationship which was pretty much perfection compared to his.

"Jethro." She replied.

"I'll go I didn't realise-"

But Jenny cut him off shaking her head. "You'll do no such thing, I'll patch you up, then you'll stay here tonight. You better not have driven Leroy Jethro Gibbs!" She reprimanded only to see his guilt face. "You should have called me! You could have passed out or something!"

"What's going on?" Mark questioned, walking in. The man took one look at Gibbs' head and hissed as though imagining the pain. "Ouch, I think you need stitches, we should get him to a doctor Jenny." He looked at the red head, who just shook her head.

"He's a petulant child, he will not go to the hospital unless he's dead, it'll be bad enough trying to get him to see Ducky." She said turning to look at her partner, and then walking into the kitchen.

A couple of moments later, he was sat at her kitchen table, as she softly sponged with cut on his head. Mark was sat on the kitchen counter watching her work. "If I wasn't going somewhere dangerous I'd take you with me and make you dress up as a nurse." Mark said, and Gibbs heard Jenny's laughter fill the room. Her movements subsided for a moment as she turned to mouth something at her boyfriend before returning to her partners head.

"Where are ya being sent?" Gibbs questioned, trying to make conversation with the man whom he was beginning to realise meant an awful lot to his red headed partner. Considering he was most likely ruining their weekend he decided he had best at least try to be friendly – for Jenny's sake if nothing else.

"Indian Ocean, they're worrying it's gonna kick off so they want us stationed over there just in case. Only there for six weeks though, then I'm back here. I've been asked to train up some rookies for a while. It means I get to be near this lovely lady though so I'm not going to moan." Gibbs smiled, it would be the first time Jenny experienced her other half being deployed. He knew he'd have to tread carefully as not to upset the red head during the time. He knew from experience with Shannon it was often harder on the one who was left behind.

He heard Jenny grumble, and asked her what was wrong. "Mark will you call Ducky, tell him Gibbs got himself on the wrong end of a- what was it this time?"

"Golf club." He mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed with all the eyes on him.

"Jeez, do your wives all get paid to test out how durable sports equipment is?!" She said it whilst laughing; Gibbs was pleased to see that someone found the whole incident funny. He just thought it hurt like hell. "Tell Ducky I think he needs stitched but the stubborn idiot won't go near a hospital. My phone is on the bedside table."

Gibbs heard Mark chuckle, kiss the red heads cheek and leave the room. Silence fell between the partners, Jenny gabbed a few ice cubes and wrapped them in a dishcloth before handing them to her partner and telling him to keep them on the wound until Ducky came. "Are you scared?" She looked at him, instantly knowing he was referring to the deployment, and she nodded, running her hands through her hair and leaning back in her chair, biting her lip as she did so.

"Yeah, yeah I'm terrified, I'm just glad it's only for 6 weeks." Her smile was meant to reassure him that she'd be fine, but it didn't.

"I'm here for you, if you need me." Jenny just smiled before laughing.

"I think you need me more right now, what the hell did you do?! I mean, Diane hitting you I can believe, but Stephanie? She's so _lovely_."

"We had a fight and she told me to leave. She went upstairs and I followed instead of leaving."

"Oh, oh dear Gibbs. You have no idea when it comes to women, you know that?"

"She was crying though, I wasn't going to just leave!"

"She didn't want you to see her cry!" Jenny said, laughing as she looked at her boss, shaking her head. "That is what you get when you don't do what you're meant to." She stated, indicating the bleeding gash.

"If I'd have left then she'd have told me I was walking out on our marriage!"

"Why didn't you just go to your basement-?"

"-Ducky is on his way, he says he will be here soon." Mark said, ending the conversation as he walked into the room. Jenny nodded and thanked him, before moving to put the kettle on and making some coffee for them all. Mark took a hold of her hand and she looked over at him, questioningly.

"Do you want me to go? So you two can patch things up properly?" He questioned, his voice less that a whisper. But she shook her head, flicking the switch on the kettle and turning to look at him, smiling at the way he always asked the right things.

"No, I want to spend as much time with you as I can before they take you away from me for 6 weeks." She said, smirking devilishly. He just flicked his eyes to Gibbs and she swatted his arm, playfully. "I didn't mean _that!"_

But he knew she had.

* * *

><p>"What has he gotten himself into this time Jennifer?" Ducky questioned as he walked through the red heads front door, removing his hat as he did so. Jenny took the said hat and his cat before leading him into the kitchen.<p>

"Stephanie hit him with a gold club." Jenny said, the smirk on her face mirroring that on the old Doctors as he listened to her words.

"Oh dear Lord, did you not learn after Diane and the baseball bat?" Ducky questioned, walking over to the table and placing his leather bag down before getting out some medical alcohol to clean the wound properly with.

"Why does everyone think this is my fault!" Jenny was in hysterics, laughing uncontrollably in the doorway, whilst Mark smirked at her and said hello to Ducky and Gibbs glared at her. "It isn't funny Jenny!"

"Oh it is Jethro, it's hilarious!" She managed, in between laughing.

"It hurt!"

"I think you need to calm down Jenny." Mark said smirking as he walked her out, giving Gibbs a sympathetic look for his girlfriend's lack of compassions over his injury. The pair walked back into the living room, but Jenny's laughter could still be heard, and Ducky stood there shaking his head.

"This may sting." Ducky warned before wiping the wound for Gibbs. Silence fell between the pair, and the sound of Jenny's laughter was still audible. "I'm glad to see you two are getting along again."

Gibbs just grunted. "I think it's got more to do with Mark than it has me Duck."

"I think you may be right my boy, she seams extremely happy. Happier than I recall her being in a long time. I'm pleased; I was worried after Cairo…" Gibbs knew how he would have finished that sentence, because they both had been worried about the psychological effect of the trauma she had experienced.

Jenny and Mark walked in, hand in hand, both smiling at one another. "Have you calmed down now my dear?" The red head didn't even get to answer before she walked out laughing again, Mark rolled his eyes at her light-heartedly and went to sit down at the table with the other two men. Ducky was applying some white stitched to the former marine's head.

"I don't know why she finds it so funny." He said, chuckling as the sound of Jenny's laughing met his ears once more. "She's never usually this bad!"

"I'm afraid my boy, Jethro's marital record is becoming a source of amusement for his team." Ducky said, as he began to pack his things away and turn to look at Gibbs. "I would advise you try not to sleep for the next 12 hours at least, no alcohol, and please try not to aggravate your wife anymore. First it was a baseball bat, now a gold club, I don't want to have to deal with you when I find a bow and arrow through you."

"I'll try Duck." Gibbs answered smirking at the Doctor. "And thanks, I owe you."

"I will add it to the ever growing list, and one day I will collect." Ducky said, smiling as he looked at Gibbs before heading to the door.

"Is he all patched up Ducky?" Jenny asked, her face slightly flushed from her fit of the giggles. Ducky nodded, and she said that she would walk him out. Once she had passed him his hat and jacket she smiled. "I'm sorry for my _inappropriate _behaviour."

"It is perfectly fine my dear; it's good to see you happy. Mark seems like a brilliant young man."

Jenny smiled, her eyes cast to the kitchen and glazing over a little. "Yeah, yeah Ducky he is."

"If you don't mind my asking, after Cairo, how are things?"

"I erm." She stopped, running a hand through her hair and leaning against the banister as she looked at the Scotsman in front of her. He'd been there for her through everything; he was like a father to her. She didn't know what she would have done without him, but there were certain things she hadn't told even him. "Everything is healed, no pains-"

"I wasn't on about physically my dear." His voice was soft; he knew that she knew what he had meant.

"Nightmares, not every night, but-" She cut herself off. "It's worse when I sleep alone. I erm, I keep seeing that room you know, feeling everything I felt. It's hell Ducky, but when Mark is there, it's like they all stop. I don't know what I'd do without him."

"They'll go with time my dear."

"I know, I know they will." But it felt like they never would, like she would spend the rest of her life scared to sleep alone because of the monsters that came out in the dark.

"Have you told him?"

"As little as I have to. Enough so he doesn't ask, but, there are bits I can't even tell you Ducky. Bits I struggle to accept even happened."

"You should think about telling him more, it might stop the nightmares." She nodded at his advice, knowing deep down that he was right. She kissed his cheek and with that he left her be. Leaving the two NCIS agents and the Naval officer to their evening.

* * *

><p>It was late when there was another knock at the door.<p>

All three of them were gathered in the living room watching an old black and white film. Jenny and Mark were sat on one sofa whilst Gibbs was on the other. He was amazed at how well Jenny had managed to make him feel as though he wasn't intruding when in reality he was pretty sure that they would both rather he wasn't there.

"I'm gonna make hot chocolate, you want anything?" She questioned, standing up and looking at the two men. "Coffee?" She questioned him, and the salt and pepper agent just smirked, making her laugh.

"Nah I'm alright." Mark replied. Jenny had just walked back into the living room when the doorbell rung. Gibbs had his coffee, and Jenny had a mug piled high with squirty cream and marshmallows which made Gibbs laugh. It reminded him of back in Paris, there had been a café which was opposite one their targets often visited. Every time they went she had ordered the hot chocolate, it had made him laugh because it was more of a desert. Piled high with marshmallows, cream, chocolate, syrup. He'd thought the thing disgustingly sweet, but she'd loved it.

"Erg." She stated, placing her drink down and going to the front door to answer it. It was evening and Jenny had changed into her pyjamas not long ago. A pair of spotty bottoms and a grey vest top. The red head wrapped her arms around herself as she opened the door. The chill outside make her skin break out in goose bumps, and she was surprised to find herself face to face with another red head. One whose eyes were red from crying and hair tangled. "Stephanie?"

"Hi, erm, I'm sorry to just turn up but is Jethro here? I don't know where else he'd be." Jenny looked at the woman, wearing a hoodie which was obviously her husband's and a jacket which would, with any other outfit, be gorgeous.

"Yeah, yeah he's in the living room." Jenny said, opening the door so that she could come in. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, no I'm alright thanks, I won't be here long." Jenny just nodded before leading her into the living room. She picked up her drink and nodded to Mark to leave the room.

"We'll let you two talk." She told them, Gibbs smiled at his partner thankfully. Jenny just nodded in return before taking her boyfriends hand and leading him outside.

* * *

><p>"Oh god did I do that?!" Stephanie asked, walking towards him and looking at the red area with stitches.<p>

"It's not as bad as it looks." Gibbs said, trying to make her feel better.

"It's got stitches! Oh god Jethro I'm so sorry, you must hate me!" She covered her face and he wondered if she was about to cry.

"Nah, couldn't hate ya Steph, JEnny said it was my own fault anyway. Diane hit me with a baseball bat – that was worse." Stephanie shook her head. Gibbs took her hand and they sat down. Silence fell between them.

"What do we do now?" Stephanie asked, and Gibbs looked at her, not knowing what to say.

"I don't know, I really don't. What do you want to do?"

"I-" She looked at him, shaking her head. "I really don't know. I really don't. I want this to work, I want nothing more than for this to work, but-"

"We can't carry on as we have."

"No, no we can't Jethro. I can't cope with that." He looked at her and nodded, pulling her into a hug. She sighed, her senses filled with the smell of coffee, sawdust and something that was just Jethro. "I'm willing to give it one last ditch attempt. One more time and then if that doesn't work…"

"One last go."

"One last go."

He softly kissed her lips, and looked at her. His heart broke, he knew it wouldn't work, but at the same time he just couldn't manage to actually let her go. Not when he was constantly reminded how perfect Jenny's relationship was – how perfect her new life was. "Does this mean I'm allowed home again?" The red head just laughed, smiling softly.

"It's your house."

"Yeah I know but you kicked me out and I don't want to get hit by a gold club again."

"I'm so sorry." Her eyes were honest and raw, and he just nodded.

"So am I."


	22. Six Weeks

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _My apologies for the delay, i've broken up for the summer now though so hopefully those story will begin to move forward again. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>Six Weeks<strong>_

'_You're my air, when I feel I can't breathe.__  
><em>_Catching me, when I'm tripping over my feet.__  
><em>_We'll get through this together.__  
><em>_You're my smile, when I just want to cry.__  
><em>_Make it all better as you kiss my sad eyes.__  
><em>_I'm giving you my forever.__'  
>-He is We, Forever &amp; Ever<em>

* * *

><p>Time came and went in Washington DC. Things carried on and cases came and went. Victims were given justice and criminals were given what they deserved. Gibbs and Stephanie tried to make their marriage work, Burley and Decker were still trying to get a girl, and Jenny was happy in the bliss of her relationship.<p>

Gibbs and Stephanie continued to try, and to anyone looking in it looked as though this time it might last. As though they'd finally managed to deal with everything and do what they needed to. But there was a certain spark that was absent. They'd sit and eat dinner, talking about their day. They'd sit and watch TV or in his basement, and it was peaceful. But there was never anything lustful anymore. Gibbs wondered if it was just their relationship taking its natural course. Perhaps they were just simply out of the honeymoon phase now. Stephanie, however, she knew it wasn't going to work. Yet even though that was firmly set in her mind she never said anything, she carried on – hoping that she was wrong.

Meanwhile Jenny and Mark had managed to accept his 6 week deployment, and were slowly taking steps forward in their relationship. So much so that Jenny went out with Mark when he met up with the guys from his crew when they went out for drinks. She'd laugh at the old stories and watch as they all played darts or Pool, desperate to beet one another. Then he would join her on the odd Friday night after a tough case when the team all went out for drinks at the local bar. Sometimes – rarely – Gibbs and Stephanie would join them, but Stan and Will were always there along with Ducky. In that scenario it was Marks turn to smile and laugh at the stories and watch as his girlfriend beet everyone at Pool and he admired her ass.

As time passed in DC, Jenny and Mark said their goodbyes. She drove him to the airport and kissed him senseless, reminding him who he was coming home to. He hugged her, and she buried her head in his shoulder, closing her eyes and convincing herself – or attempting to – that he would come home safe. That soon they would be taking yet another step forward together.

At the airport she watched him walk away through security, in his uniform along with all of his other crew members. All of them were laughing and joking as they tried to forget what they were about to walk into. Jenny had stood there, alone; all the other wives and girlfriends knew each other. They were all crying as soon as the men were out of sight, but Jenny wasn't.

The red head stared at where he had walked for another minute before running her hand through her hair and closing her eyes, only to have her phone ring and to be told there was a dead Marine who needed her attention. So, she'd left, left all those crying women and left all her fears in that airport and headed off to the Marine base to try and give justice to another family.

* * *

><p>The house was a small bungalow on a typical residential street. Each house had its lawn mowed, flowers planted and curtains drawn in respect. There were no children to be seen, but their bikes and scooters were visible. They'd most likely been brought inside when the police turned up. The red head pulled up behind the NCIS van which would transport the body back to HQ.<p>

Her eyes cast over to the sight of Ducky walking into the building – his hat firmly on his head and dressed in his blue NCIS issue coveralls. There were base police stood there talking to Gibbs, and the yellow tape was wrapped around the nearest lamppost stopping anyone from getting into the crime scene. The whole scene was nothing new; it was like it always was. Like every scene she approached. But today the redhead noticed everything a little bit more.

Pulling down her sun visor she looked at her appearance in the mirror and sighed. She had very little make up on – she and Mark had gotten distracted that morning meaning she didn't have as much time as usual to get ready. That was why she had simply pulled on her blue oversized floaty blouse, leggings and a pair of heeled black boots. The red head closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then she reached across and grabbed her lipstick out of the glove compartment, hoping if she had on her red lipstick then no one would notice she was preoccupied.

Once her lipstick was on she swapped her leather jacket for the black NCIS issue one and stepped out of the car, ready to get to work.

"What have we got?" She asked Gibbs as she approached him, tying her hair back as she walked so that it didn't contaminate the crime scene. The silver haired man turned to look at her. He knew what day it was, knew what was happening today. He'd not expected her to turn up, he hadn't wanted her here. He knew from personal experience that it was hard, but he guessed that one of the goons he worked with told her.

The silver haired agent turned and nodded to the base officer, telling him they were done before returning his gaze to his partner. "You don't have to be here-"

"Shut up and tell me about the case Gibbs." She said, not wanting to be smothered in a blanket for the next six weeks. The only way she was going to cope was if she was allowed to work and act normally. If everyone tried to walk on eggshells and protect her then she knew all too well that she would end up screaming – _then _she wouldn't cope, _then _she'd break down.

Gibbs only paused momentarily before answering, but it was long enough to look at her, and see the worry in her eyes. They'd managed to carry on getting along even better recently, and in that moment he promised her – silently – that he would watch out for her, or maybe he promised Mark? "Marine was found dead on the living room floor, his ex-wife arrived to find him that way. Ducky says it looks like her was beaten over the head with a blunt instrument, can't confirm. Burley and Decker are sketching, bagging tagging, and photographing. Talk to the ex-wife, see why she was here. Get her statement and prints."

"On it." She said, smiling and walking over to where a brunette was stood looking shook up.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, the ex-wife had done the deed. She'd been under the understanding they were trying again, but he'd been with someone else. Having her heart broken by the same person twice had caused her to snap. When she'd realised what she had done, she'd panicked and called the police who then called NCIS. The case had taken less than a day to solve – something that Jenny had found irritating. Simply because she then had to go home – alone.<p>

But the weeks went by, the days passed, and with each on that did she knew that she was a day closer to Mark returning. After a couple of weeks Gibbs became less protective, allowing her to do her job fully. Each Friday she went out with Stan, Will and Ducky. She sat there watching as the two agents tried chatting up every woman in the bar – and occasionally won. Men would try and chat her up too, but each and every time she turned them down, instead preferring to return to their table. When the two agents failed to achieve their goal for the evening; Jenny would take them both back to her place, dump them on her sofa and place a bucket by the side of them.

Both knew it was only while Mark was away, and as much as they both knew she was doing it for their health, they also knew it was helping her. One morning though, they repaid her. Will woke Stan up earlier and dragged him out of the back door. Both walked down to the local bakery and brought back a tonne of pancakes and waffles for breakfast.

It was safe to say that the smell of the sweet confectionary had woken a surprised and grateful Jenny. So whilst the boys emptied the food she had brewed coffee. That was the final Saturday before Mark's return. There was a change in Jenny that day – both knew it. There was a twinkle in her eyes. There was a shine and a hope – none of which had been there for the last six weeks.

The knowledge that by the end of Tuesday he would be back in her bed and by her side was enough to remind her how much she wanted him home. And when that day came, she was over the moon. Morrow had given her the day off. So she woke up at nine, showered and stood in her wardrobe glancing over the numerous outfits as she decided what to wear.

There was a smile on her face, one that she could honestly not deny to anyone.

Her hands grazed across the material. It was spring outside, not warm, but not cold either. And as she pulled out a shirt dress which hit below mid thigh and was floaty, along with her favourite cardigan, she knew that she didn't have to make an effort, but she did.

* * *

><p>The airport was busy, and even in her high heels she was only small. Standing on her tip toes she looked through heads. The first few men in uniform had arrived, and Jenny smiled at the sight of children hugging their fathers. Then there were women, smiling broadly at their spouses and children. And then she saw him, Marks eyes were scanning the crowd for her.<p>

A smile fell across his face when he saw her, one matched on hers too. Unlike all the other women, she let him walk to her. But as soon as the Naval officer had placed his things down on the ground she was hugging him tight. Mark buried his head in her curls, letting the scent of her familiar shampoo wash over her. Letting himself be reminded that Jenny was really there, that it wasn't just another dream.

They pulled back only enough to kiss one another passionately. Then, once they had managed to compose themselves they walked out of the airport hand in hand.

* * *

><p>It was that evening that what was probably the greatest step forward in their relationship happened. They were laid in bed; she was dozy, half asleep and curled into his chest when he stood up. Without him there she grumbled, pulling his t-shirt up to her nose. "Jenny." She mumbled something inaudible. "Jenny!" She opened her eyes a little, and was about to moan at him for a) leaving the bed, and b) stopping her sleeping.<p>

Then she saw him.

In only his boxers staring at her.

In his hand was a velvet box.

Mark was on one knee.

In a flash she was awake, sat up straight and looking at him. She wasn't crying like the cliché, but she had her mouth open, catching flies. Jenny was now alert. Mark would have laughed at her face if he wasn't so nervous about her answer. "Jennifer Shepard, you are the most amazing woman. You are funny, strong, passionate, smart, and _damn _gorgeous, and I am head over heels in love with you." He'd been in war zones, fights, but the Navy was a walk in the park compared to this. "Will you marry me?"

It was like Jenny was watching herself. She slowly began to nod her head, more and more as the situation dawned on her. Mark smiled, and he let out a breath he hadn't even realised that he had been holding in. "Yes." She spoke, but it was barely more than a whisper.

Jenny got out of the bed and leapt onto him, kissing him senseless, and when they parted, numerous kisses later, both just laughed. She placed her head on his shoulder as she got her breath back. Then she felt the cold metal on her finger – the ring. She had completely forgotten about that. Moving her head she looked down at the ring in amazement. It was beautiful. A gold band, with two small diamonds and a slightly larger one set in the middle, and a pattern on either side engraved into the gold.

"Do you like it?" He asked, but all he got in response was a kiss.

"Almost as much as I like you." She said winking. Both of them just laughed. "When did you get it?"

"We had a day's leave in the middle of the 6 weeks, the offer of a flight to one of the local cities. I went and when I saw it I realised that now was the right time. I don't know what is coming; I can't tell you if I'll get another shipment. But I want to know you're here for me."

"Of course I am."

* * *

><p>That night she lay in bed, Mark asleep and curled up into his side. The moonlight shone in through the window and she looked at the ring on her finger, smiling as it glittered. Jennifer Shepard was happier than she had been in a long time. Lying there she realised that. But at the same time, she was terrified about what Gibbs' reception of the news would be.<p>

He had been her world for so long, and if he didn't approve . . .

* * *

><p>As cliche as it sounded, she felt different when she exited the metal lift the next day. The beautiful gold rig sitting on her finger still did not seem quite real. It's presence against her pale skin still almost alien. She couldn't remember falling asleep, maybe it had come somewhere between thoughts of Gibbs response and her wedding-<p>

-that still sounded alien. She'd yet to speak those words yet, but her mind had said them over and over last night. Her wedding. 'My wedding'. Jenny and mark hadn't spoken about it, being able to call him her fiancé was enough of a development for one night in her eyes. But the time would soon come when the planning would begin. The red head had realised last night whilst gazing at the ring that she was yet to even meet his parents. The only thing she knew about them was that they lived in Ireland, hat they'd moved there when Marks father had retired. She still didn't know from what.

There was not hong she'd decided the night before; that she didn't want a massive wedding. Jenny wanted the white dress, the bouquet and the cake. The sunny and warm honeymoon. But the crowds of people she barely even knew - those she didn't want. Agents she had worked beside for one case, people her parents had know who would simply tell her how much she had grown up-

-Considering she was only a child last time she saw them that was no surprise.

Of course Mark would have his own ideas, but something in the way he acted told her that he wouldn't mind too much. Surely a wedding was about those getting married as oppose the ceremony?

* * *

><p>Gibbs, Burley and Decker were already in when she arrived. Although the two younger agents looked only just to have arrived as they were stood up emptying their things ready for the day. Gibbs cast a glance over, nodding in greeting. Stan and Will were in conversation as she moved to the other side of her desk, removing the leather jacket that she wore on top of her long floaty teal blouse and leggings.<p>

"Alright Red!" Stan greeted, making her smile in response. He'd only ever be the one person she allowed to use that nickname. Stan and Will's conversation had carried on before she could say anything else. So the red head sat down at her desk and set about writing up one of the long line of waiting case reports that needed doing.

As she wrote, her eyes kept flicking to the sparkling object on her left ring finger. It is said that the left ring finger is where a wedding and engagement ring goes, because there is a crime which runs there straight from the heart. Whilst she sat there looking at it she couldn't help but think about that fact, and part of her wondered if it was Ducky who had told her that. Determinedly she flicked her eyes back to the paper and continues to write, filling the NCIS official paper with her cursive script. The incidents of the case filtering back into her mind and she scribed them, marking their day in history.

The morning went on, and little new happened, but the feeling of the ring on her finger made her constantly think of how and when she should tell them all. But that was a decision which was soon made for her when the sound of William Decker's world whistle reached her ears. "Now that is some piece of jewellery Shep." Jenny didn't know how to respond instantly, she just lifted her head, her face flushed. Gibbs' eyes were on her, and she instantly felt regret that it would never be her who told him. He had told her about his engagement to Stephanie, and she knew it should have been the se way around for her engagement too.

But it was done now.

"Isn't the left finger for a special ring boss? You've handed a few of them out after all." The comment Will made received a deadly cold stone glare in response. A glare that even an agent who was used to the wrath of Leroy Jethro Gibbs would be intimidated by.

"I erm..." The red head stammered, unable to form words for some reason. "Mark, he proposed last night." She informed them, purposefully not looking at Gibbs until she had finished. When she met his eyes though she was surprised. Jenny couldn't put a finger on what she had expected to see, couldn't quite describe it. But what she saw wasn't whatever it was. His cobalt irises were filled with a whole mixture of emotions, pleasure that she was happy, and pride. But more than that was sadness, love, and maybe just a little regret. However the other two agents were soon congratulating her in their Micky taking way; causing her to tear her eyes away from her partners for a while.

Stan and Will made Jenny stand up and both hugged her, she could tell they were both happy for her, could tell that they were sincere. "Congratulations Jen." He said, not moving from his seat. But the salt and pepper haired marine didn't need to. He would never need to say anything else apart from that nickname; 'Jen', the same nickname that recently meant an awful lot more than just a name. One that was loaded with everything that had once been and had once had the chance to be.

"If we are giving news and Jenny doesn't mind me stealing her lime light-" Will began, only to be cut off by the red head in question.

"Good god; don't tell me you finally managed to get a lady!"

"Hey! I've had plenty of women in the past thank you very much. It's just been a bit of a dry patch recently that's all." The agent said, flushing a little before coughing and changing the subject back to where he had originally intended for it to go. "I've been offered a promotion; my own team in LA. I've accepted."

"Well done Will, you deserve it." Jenny said pleasantly, softly hugging the man. The thing about team Gibbs was that yes, they all joked incessantly. They all took the mick and picked on one another. But that was just how they supported each other. However sometimes, they really could be serious. When the time called for it they knew when to draw the line. And this was one of those times.

"You deserve it." Gibbs corners, getting up and patting the agent on his back.

"Who the hell am I gonna pick up women with now Deck? Gibbs?!" Stan questioned making them all laugh. "Well done man." He added when the noise had all died down.

That was the day that everything slowly began to change. The day that team Gibbs slowly began to move forward; Will was leaving and Jenny was starting a new chapter. Gibbs sat at his desk, and he saw the team he had raised begin to grow up. Part of him new that within six months everything would be different again; that in a year Stan would probably have moved on and up the ranks as well. Then there was Jenny, and as much as he had always thought that she would always be his partner, he knew all too well that if Mark got re-stationed somewhere further away she would go with him. The agent couldn't deny her that right.

He just wished that the things he was beginning to feel now had raised their heads at a more appropriate time – when she wasn't happily engaged.

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><p><em>Reviews are highly appreciated and really do make me write <em>


	23. An Alcohol Induced Lunacy

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _Now, the fun begins. Ya will all love this chapter, please review_

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><p><em><strong>An Alcohol Induced Lunacy<strong>_

'_The dust on the floor,  
>Piled up from the years,<br>All those scars and souvenirs,  
>Now that you're gone,<br>It's easy to see,  
>But so hard to believe,'<br>-Theory of a Deadman, By The Way_

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><p>It seemed like an eternity since the last time she was down in his basement, with a mason jar of bourbon in her hand, perched on his work bench whilst he tended to his beloved boat. She'd arrived a couple of hours after he had home. Knocked on the door only to hear his gruff response as he told her to come in and he was down in the basement. Then he'd listened to the sound of her unmistakable heels clip clopping on the wooden flooring above. A sound that had been vacant from his house for was now feeling like a heck of a long time.<p>

"Why are you here Jenny?" Was his question as she took another sip of the amber liquid that she had so grown a taste for. The liquor made its way down her throat, and she didn't respond immediately. Instead, relishing in the familiar burn in her oesophagus. It was the first thing to have been said between them, with the exception of her mumbled 'thank you' when he'd handed her the drink. It was also a question she had asked herself numerous times since she set foot in the hallway above. The reason, she told herself, was that she needed to talk to him; because she felt guilty that he'd not found out about her engagement from her lips earlier in the day. However, she knew there were other motives. Jenny wanted to repair their relationship, she wanted them to laugh and joke. Being with Mark had strangely enough made her realise how much she missed Jethro's friendship, because it was the only thing missing in a life which was as perfect as she could ever hope to have. Mark was with his friends and she ... maybe she was in his basement because he was the only friend that had always been there for her? Or maybe she was simply there for old times' sake, before the next chapter of her life got into full swing?

"Where's Stephanie?" Answering a question with a question: an interrogation technique that never got anywhere – that was a fact she was well aware of. But it was all she had been able to say. It was the only phrase she'd been able to think of that wasn't at least partially a lie.

"Her sisters; she's left me." His eyes didn't once leave the wood he was working on, but Jenny knew that they were swimming with emotions. Jethro never did talk about how he felt, just like his body language never gave anyone an inclination. Yet his eyes, they were a different case. His eyes were like oceans, a mystery to anyone who didn't know how to explore them. A haven or a hell.

"I'm sorry." It seemed such a pathetic response as she said it. Like she was simply consoling someone she had never even met- not someone who had save her life on numerous occasions.

"Don't be, we all knew it was coming." Jenny watched as Gibbs' movements stilled, no doubt as he tried to push yet another failed marriage to the back of his mind to join the rest. As he attempted not to think of the thrill that would soon be had by office scuttlebutt when it all became public knowledge.

Meanwhile Jenny felt her heart swell; she had always just wanted him to be happy. Even back when she was madly in love with him, and he didn't feel the same. If he was happy then she would try to move on; and she had. She had believed he was happy, so she started dating Mark. She had never even guessed that their relationship would become as serious as it now was. It was sickening to the red head that after however long of her wanting a married man, he would be the single one and she'd have the ring on her finger. Part of her was unable to help but wonder what would have happened if she waited just a while longer for him.

Then again Jenny had no knowledge that he would want her anyway. She had no idea whether his feelings would be what hers were – or more accurately; had been. Jenny's eyes were unable to help the way they strayed to the ring on her finger, with its small diamonds sparkling in the dull light of the basement. The ring that signified that she had, in fact, moved on. She had managed to get over the infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The ring that contradicted the fact that she was sat in his basement, wondering about 'what if's and 'could have been's.

"I liked her, you know. She was … the complete opposite of you." He looked over at her, and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to clarify what she meant. Jenny just smirked, hoping to lighten the mood a little between them. She missed the sound of that rare laughter that back when they were undercover had graced her ears so many times. "She was lovely, and kind, and caring."

"What are you trying to say I am?" His tone was light hearted, and matched hers. His movements were stilled and his old USMC t-shirt hung from his shoulders, and lightly brushed over the defined muscles on his abdomen. It was a sight that she had always and would always find attractive.

"You're more… gruff, and well, that second 'b' in your name rings true quite frequently." Gibbs smirked at her reply. It wasn't quite the laugh she had hoped to hear, but it was a start.

"You gonna tell me why you're here then?" Just like that things were serious again; it was amazing how they managed to do that. His hands placed the sanding block down before he walked over to the work bench and filled his own mason jar with more of the harsh liquor. His cobalt eyes watched her as she looked down at the ring, spinning it around her slender finger with her forefinger and thumb. The way she sat there, legs crossed at the ankles, Mason jar beside her, short hair framing her face. Lady like, just as she had been the first time he had met her, but with just the right amount of sawdust on her that she looked like she belonged.

Ever since the night they had had their fight and she told him that she had loved him, he'd been unable to stop thinking out it. Unable to comprehend how he had not noticed, not picked up on her feelings. And he wished he had, because part of his marrying Stephanie had been because she reminded him or Jenny _and_ Shannon. She had the mannerisms of Shannon, but the same twinkle in her eye as Jenny.

"I erm… I wanted to apologise that you didn't find out about the engagement from me. I wanted to tell you I just…" She just what? She wondered, chickened out? It was the same question Gibbs asked himself as he downed the whole mason of bourbon swiftly followed by another. The drink was like water to him these days – he barely felt the burn. But it also was like candyfloss, it the way that the sickly sweet sugar concoction always reminds you of the beach or the fun fair. Bourbon would always remind him of Jenny, of the first time she tried it, and how drunk she had been. It was bittersweet in that sense.

"You just what?" He asked, his voice harsher than he had initially intended it to be, but rough at the same time because of the amount of alcohol in his system.

"I was scared, okay? I was scared that you would disapprove or something!" She replied back with equal harshness, both knowing what should be a conversation would soon develop into a full thrown argument.

"Why the hell would I disapprove, it's not like I'm jealous!"

"No, you made it plenty clear you weren't interested in me when you flaunted you're latest wife around the place." She replied back.

"Well you don't have to worry about her anymore do you?!" He threw back, and she just shook her head, almost ashamed at how easily he could just throw something like divorce into an argument and act so blasé about the whole thing.

"Really, you're at the making jokes stage of a breakup already?"

"Yeah well it's not like I married her for who she was anyway was it? Don't act like you didn't know that." His voice rose up an octave or two as he spoke, or more like shouted.

"For god's sake Gibbs!" She swore under her breath as she ran a hand through her hair. "Why the hell did you marry her then?!" her tone wasn't loud, it wasn't argumentative, it was just … disapproving? He looked down at the bottle of bourbon, and held it by the neck before taking a gulp, Jenny just looked away, not wanting to see the man she admired so much drinking like it was going out of fashion. "I think you've had _enough_!"

"No." He said, quietly. "No Jenny, I've had no were near enough of the drink. In fact I've barely even started on that. But I've had enough of the lies, and the dancing around each other- dammit-"

"Gibbs will you stop drinking!"

"I married her because she reminded me of you!" He shouted back at her, and she stopped, taken aback by what he had said. "I married her because she reminded me of you."

"You're drunk." She stated heading to take the drink off of him. "You know what though, even if it is true, you're _pathetic_. You could have had me if you wanted me – at the drop of a hat-"

"And what about now?"

"I'm engaged!" Jenny shouted back in astonishment at his audacity.

"So what?! Call it off, call it all off and leave the piece of-"

"I'm happy Jethro! I'm so damn happy for the first time in my life, I'm happy! And now you want to ruin it all-"

"I love you Jenny!" Jenny was silent, she closed her eyes and held back the tears. She wanted to cry because a year ago those four words would have made her so happy, but now-

Jenny simply walked towards the stairs, and began to walk up them. Her heel touching the worn wood was the only sound in the basement. Gibbs was staring at her, and finally she let the tears roll down her face. Part of her wondered if he would remember what he had said in the morning. Wondered if he meant what he had said. Turning to look at him, she saw the hard marine who had mentored her for years, who had been her rock in Europe look vulnerable and open to injury. As she looked at him, she said the only thing that she could think to say.

"You're drunk Jethro, go sleep it off." She didn't shout, she didn't screech, instead she said it softly. But the way she said was worse than shouting. It sounded disapproving again, it sounded fed up, as though she could easily walk out on him.

With that she walked out of his house, trying to block out the sound of him finishing of the bottle and throwing it across the room. Trying to ignore the sound of a breakdown as she left him to it. Silent tears rolled down her face as she walked to the car. But only once the door was closed and the key was in the ignition did she let the first of what would be many sobs escape her body. Heaving sobs of distress.

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><p>"Doctor Mallard." Came the Scotsman's soft reply as he answered the phone. There was silence for a moment, and simply the sound of ragged breathing on the other end of the phone. "Who is it please?" He questioned, ever polite.<p>

"It's Jenny." She finally answered, in a hoarse voice, tired from the crying as tears still rolled down her face.

"My dear, is everything alright?" His voice was laced with concern, and it caused a warm feeling to spread through her at the sound of the comforting voice.

"I'm fine Ducky, but erm…" She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Ducky, Stephanie has left Gibbs and erm … I think you need to get over there. I think it might just be a bit much this time."

"Can you stay with him?"

"No Ducky, not this time, he'll be passed out on the floor by the time you get here. Just, please make sure he wakes up?" Her voice was hurt, and the Doctor was not blind to the fact that something had happened. Not wanting to hurt her by prying, he simply told her that he would be there soon and not to worry. Jenny thanked him and hung up the phone.

With that, she wiped her eyes, turned the key, and headed home. Hoping that Mark would be with her sooner than later.


	24. A Change in The Wind

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _I did say i'd try and update more! Now, this chapter, let's just say i'm hoping y'all like it. As for whether it is what you wanted... _

_(Your reviews are seriously awesome by the way!)_

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><p><em><strong>A Change in The Wind<strong>_

'_And you know, everything changes but,  
>We'll be strangers if we see this through,<br>You could stay within these walls and bleed,  
>Or just stay with me'<br>-Ed Sheeran, One_

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><p>Time slowly passed by in Washington DC. As it turned out Gibbs did remember what he had said that night, he remembered how Jenny had reacted, and guilt weighed heavily down on his shoulders. The red head had arrived late the next morning, looking tired and emotionally as well as physically drained. He had the mother of all hangovers, and had woken to find Ducky in his kitchen making coffee. The smell of the drink had caused him to rise to consciousness; only to open his eyes and regret his passing out on the hard concrete basement floor. Gibbs hadn't known why the older man was there, but he had soon guessed it was Jenny who had called him.<p>

Ducky had witnessed the pair's relationship from the very first day they had met. He'd seen a bond grow which was stronger than any he had ever witnessed. Seen the way they managed to work in perfect sync and communicate without words. Ducky had been there in Paris, when things had been so hard that all of them nearly broke down. He'd watched how both managed to take on the cover of lovers so flawlessly that they had even him confused as to where the cover ended. When Jethro got married, he'd seen things get rough, he'd consoled Jenny. But they'd managed to get back up, the next day at work though, things were worse than the day when the red head agent had reached her breaking point and slapped her boss.

In the past you had known something was wrong because of the arguments, the shouting matches that caused everyone to cut their losses and run. But this time it was silent. They didn't share a word, only long and detailed looks – but not in a romantic sense. Stan and Will had taken every opportunity to leg it, Stan down to Ducky or the new forensic specialist who was doing her first few half days to get to know the place. A woman, who aroused curiosity particularly among the men in headquarters. Will would go to Marrow, and discuss his new job which had been confirmed would start later than expected, 8 weeks time.

However, as the time went on, Ducky wished he could say things were getting better. However there was no change. Gibbs was going through his divorce proceedings, something which put him in a ratty mood to begin with. But it didn't take long for the papers to be signed and the handshake to take place. Then it was over. The wedding ring was removed. The office scuttlebutt began.

Jenny's life was different though. In fact it was an ever changing different. She and Mark had talked about the wedding and what they wanted. She'd told him that because she didn't have any blood relatives that she would rather it was small, and he agreed. However, he had informed her that he was paying for the honeymoon, and he wanted it to be memorable. So, he had taken a month long stationing to add some money to the jar. It was not a dangerous one, he'd be training men with new equipment, and she trusted him. He was too good of a person for him not to come back.

It was also decided that they would take a long weekend to Ireland, so she could meet her soon to be mother and father in law. The date was set, the saving began, and Mark shipped out.

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><p>It was when Mark had been shipped out for two weeks that Jenny discovered what was about to be the next biggest chapter in their life. Sitting in the en suit bathroom of her bedroom in the Georgetown house in which she had grown up in, she felt the air become sucked out of her lungs. Her hands shook, and tears formed in her eyes. Shifting she picked up the second and saw that both were identical, just as the third one was.<p>

The tears streamed faster, and the corners of her mouth slowly began to twitch up at the sides. More, and more, until she was beaming with glee. Jenny froze in that moment for what must have been nearing ten minutes. Not once did her eyes leave the three small plus signs that were looking up at her. Not once though, did she mentally acknowledge what this meant.

When finally she managed to think straight she picked up the phone, entering her contacts she looked at marks picture, but knew it would ring to a dead end. He wasn't aloud it out there. Subconsciously she looked at Gibbs' number. The one she knew very well she would be able to recite in her sleep if she so wanted. Yet she knew all too well that was not the number she would call. They weren't talking, why would this amazing new for _her_ change that. It would certainly not take back what he had said or how he felt.

His words still haunted her, she'd told Mark though, a couple of nights later. She'd felt as though she had had an affair, felt like she was cheating on the man who was so much better than she deserved. However, Mark's response had simply been; 'I don't blame him'. Because in her fiancé's eyes, he was surprised that everyone wasn't in love with her.

Jenny finally clicked on a number; Tom Marrow's number. It was a Sunday, but after a week of high profile cases she knew that he would be in his office. Even if he wasn't, they were friends and she was sure he would pick up. When he answered she was brief, asking simply for a favour. That was how, an hour and a half later, Jenny was stood in MTAC, face to face with her fiancé – or at least over video conference anyway.

It was a luxury, something that they both knew most couples did not get, but neither one would turn it down. And no one out there with him, no matter how jealous they were, would deny them it.

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><p>Dressed in a pair of white leggings, an old extra large American football shirt, and a pair ballet pumps she looked up at Mark's face as he smiled, the feed reaching him all those miles away. Her heels were gone, the team weren't in the office and even the skeleton staff seemed to be down to their bones. So as she looked at the man she was undoubtedly in love with, she knew she needed to impress no one.<p>

"How are you?" He asked, and she smiled. He'd never ask how she had even made this happen, but at the same time he would be ever thankful for it. She looked at him, in his daily uniform on the ship. Clean shaven and dapper, and Jenny silently hoped he'd wear his dress uniform for their wedding.

"I miss you." She said, smiling softly. Tom had told her that he would only be able to let them talk for fifteen minutes. But it was more than enough to tell him what she needed to.

"I miss you too." He replied. "Planned any more of the wedding back there?"

The red head laughed a little, placing a finger on her chin as she did so. "Well I spoke to KFC and they said they will cater, and then I thought we could have the reception in their car park and get married by the McDonald's clown. What do you think?" She loved the sight that followed her words, her fiancé laughing from half way across the world, and she just laughed back. Both secretly knowing that they wouldn't care even if that was their wedding. "No, I erm, I was thinking I'd get Ducky to give me away."

"I think he'd be really honoured." Mark responded, and she nodded. "My mum will love him, you know? In fact, so will my dad."

"I can't wait to meet them. But, erm, I was also thinking we should bring the wedding date closer."

"Okay?"

"It's just, we're gonna look back on these pictures for years. I'm gonna look at my dress for years and well, the thing is, I'm not gonna be this thin for long. As much as I don't mind, it's just-"

"What are you saying Jenny?" Mark had a look on his face, hope, wonder.

"Well." She began. "When you're pregnant, you're stomach-"

"We're having a child?" His face beamed, and so did hers. Jenny just nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks – already her hormones were all over the place. She watched as he turned around to the rest of his crew and said; "I'm gonna be a dad!"

Jenny had thought about keeping it quiet. But she also knew from what little her father had spoken about his deployments that one person's good news causes everyone to smile. It lightens everyone's day. That was evident when she soon could not just see her fiancé, the father of the child she was holding, but also the face of so many other men and a couple of woman as they patter him on the back and shouted 'congratulations' towards her. The red head just laughed, smiled, and loved every moment of it.

When everyone had finally left the screen, their celebrations could still be heard. Their time was running out, but they were both still smiling. Beaming brightly at the news three little stick had given them. "I'm gonna be a daddy." Mark said, and Jenny nodded. "You hear that little one, I'm your daddy, and know we haven't met yet, but I love you so much." Jenny placed her hand on her still flat stomach. Smiling at Mark's words. Engraving them into her memory.

A technician walked into the room and she knew that their time was really nearly over. She was about to speak, when he nodded. "Stay safe." She said.

"You too, both of you." Jenny smiled. "I love you Jenny, and thank you."

"Thank _you, _I love you too."

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><p>That day Jenny returned home in a bliss. She felt like she was flying, everything seemed so bright, so perfect. It would be wrong to say that she was not scared because she was, truth be told the thought of being a mother terrified her. But she knew that it would be the best thing that would ever happen to her.<p>

Jenny went home, sat with a cup of tea, and started writing a diary. So that if their child ever asked, she could tell them about everything. It was a day she would never forget; it was the happiest day of her life. But as she fell asleep that night, she did not know that an even bigger change in her life was fast approaching.

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><p><em>I don't know if y'all read the lyrics at the beginning of each chapter, but they are quite pertinent to what you are about to read. Plus, i do take a while choosing them. Anyway, fancy leaving a review? More reviews and i'll get yas some Jibbs in the next chapter...<em>


	25. Rooftops

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _Before you read this, I want to make you all understand that this is_ exactly _how I always planned this story, ever since the very first chapter. _

_Enjoy_

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><p><em><strong>Rooftops<strong>_

'_After all the mistakes have been and gone__  
><em>_You're still standing here, standing strong__  
><em>_And I forgive all the wrongs that you have ever done__  
><em>_Cos you're still the only one'  
>-Amy Macdonald, my only one<em>

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><p>She walked into headquarters the next day with a smile on her face. She'd booked her doctor's appointment the night before. And that small and simple action had alone made the whole thing seam so real. It made it all feel less like a dream and more like reality. She was going to be a mum, a child was going to rely on her, and that was a thought that scared her but also warmed her heart.<p>

She had sat there, that night, thinking about her own mother. Wondering if she was watching down on her, wishing that she was there beside her. Jenny very rarely spoke of her mother, nor did she allow her past to creep into her present very often. But this was a rare occasion, because she thought of her father too. She thought of him, and what he would say. She was about to marry a Navy officer, that he wouldn't approve of, but she was happy. Jenny saw in her mind the sight of her father, aged, and sat in a chair, reading a story book.. He was always the gruff kind of man, but she imagined him to be a grandfather who did all the different voices. Who would get her child hyper then hand them back.

Jenny had instantly realised how much she wished her parents were alive. Simply so their child could have two sets of grandparents.

But that moment, all her thoughts were happy. It was a Monday, so the bull pen was buzzing with activity. Walking in, it felt like home – just as it always had. Dressed in a pale pink floaty top, edged with white lace, teamed with leggings and a summer scarf along with her signature heels, she felt like she could take on the world.

Her stomach was still flat, but she had chosen loose clothes because until it was public knowledge she didn't want anyone knowing. She'd wait a while to tell people - that was something that she had decided on. Mark may well have told his crew, but that was different. The only person Jenny truly wanted to tell was Jethro. But considering their current circumstance, she knew that was not an option. So, at least for a while she would keep it secret, their little secret.

She walked into the MCRT area of the bull pen, cornered off by the orange wall. Stan and Will were sat at their desks, but not working. She guessed that they had no case, although they very well could do, after all the pair didn't necessarily do work when they actually had a case anyway. The red head saw that Gibbs' desk was empty, and part of her felt relieved. After all if he wasn't there then there wasn't the tension, tension that she didn't want to feel. Not when her day was going so well. But there was still that part of her that wondered. She guessed it would always, she was his partner, and he was hers.

"Where is the boss?" She questioned as she moved around her desk, placed her bag down and turned on her computer. She then leant forward and looked at the pair in front of her. Stan didn't say anything, he just shrugged his shoulder, but that didn't surprise her.

"In the Directors office, night shift told me, apparently he's been up there for hours. They both have. No one knows why though." Will stated, as he turned to look at the pair. Stan had his feet up on his desk, and that alone proved that none of them were expecting him to come down for a while. If they were then Stan would not have his phone on his lap as he played Tetris – something which would result in a head slap his great grand children would feel if the boss saw.

"Fair enough." Jenny replied to Will had given her. She then flicked through her emails, scanning them all, but she soon decided that there was nothing of interest among them. "I take it we don't have a case then?"

"Nope."Stan replied, popping the 'p'. "Just cold cases, take your pick, there is nothing new though." The cold cases in the pile were the same ones that were always there. Cases which seemed to be never ending dead ends. They all cared about the victims; it wasn't that, it was simply that every avenue seemed to have been explored. But Jenny's good mood meant that she picked up the one on the top and set about reading through the file that was ever so familiar.

"Who wants coffee?" Will questioned, standing up once he had his wallet. Stan chucked him a fiver and gave the other agent a detailed description of the caramel, milky, coffee, fancy, creamy, chocolate sprinkle covered concoction that he wanted. Jenny just smirked; she wondered how Stan had ever ended up on the team – especially when his taste in coffee was so atrocious. "Shep?"

"I'm fine thanks." Jenny replied, deciding she would rather not have some disgusting decaffeinated coffee that tasted like dishwater.

"You sure you're gonna survive without that IV of caffeine in your arm?" Will questioned.

"I think I'll survive, just wave some under my nose if I look like I'm about to sleep." The red head responded, smirking as the other agent walked out of the room. But Jenny didn't have time to ever actually get on with the case that was laid out in front of her.

None of them would get to deal with any of those cold cases.

Both Jenny and Stan looked up when they heard footsteps coming out of the Directors office. When they saw Gibbs stood there, both knew something was wrong. To anyone else he would look no different. But they saw it. The grey circles under his eyes, the lines on his forehead, his clothes looking like he'd worn them yesterday. Then there were those eyes, and both Jenny and Stan stood up. However, the agent's eyes were on his partner as he nodded towards Marrow's office. Jenny didn't respond, she just stood up and made her way up the stairs.

Stan, meanwhile, stayed sat behind his desk, furrowing his brow at the antics of the two partners.

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><p>By the time Jenny had made it up the stairs, her boss was back in the Directors office. So, she walked in, the clip clopping of her heels dulled out by the carpet covered floors. When she reached the metal door she softly knocked, before hearing confirmation and entering the office. Gibbs and the Director were sat on the sofa. Marrow looked about as bad as Jethro did.<p>

The concern at seeing her boss instantly doubled as she took in the two men. "What's going on?" She questioned, her voice as light hearted as she could manage. The director nodded to the seat which was next to Jethro, and she silently took it before tilting her head as she looked at the pair. "Am I going to have to guess?"

"Jenny-" But Gibbs cut himself off, returning his eyes to look out of the window. It was sunny out, and spring had pretty much completely turned into summer. The trees were in full colour, and the grass was thick and green. He'd seen children playing in the park on his way to work. It was a time of year that always reminded him of Kelly. She'd been such an outdoors person, bikes, and running and sport. When summer had come it had been almost impossible to get her inside at bedtime. Half the time Gibbs had given in when he was home, and carried her in when she had fallen asleep on the grass looking at the stars.

Jenny looked as Marrow ran a hand through his hair. Either he or Gibbs was going to have to do this. From the look on the agents face, it was going to be him. "Jenny, I erm…" He sighed, deciding he had to spit it out. "I had a call from a friend in the Navy, there was an incident, when a group of men took a small boat out to get supplies one of the boxes contained an explosive-"

"Was everyone okay?" she asked. She knew in her mind she should worry for Mark, but she also knew that NCIS got information so late, and she'd only spoken to him the night before.

"The man who discovered it, he was killed, he saved everyone else." Tom looked in her eyes. "Jenny, Mark-"

"No." She said, but the red head felt realisation setting in. She'd been brought up here alone, out of the sight of others. Gibbs hadn't said a word. Both looked like they'd just seen a ghost. "I only spoke to him yesterday, _you _arranged it!"

"Jenny, it's been confirmed, we were told before anyone else-"

"But-"

"Jen, he's gone." They were the only three words of matter that Gibbs had said to her. The only words he had spoken since she entered the room. Yet they managed to be the words that echoed around her mind as she stood up, and silently walked out of the office. Jethro stood up to go after her, but Tom shook his head. She needed time to get her head around it.

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><p>The red head walked across the catwalk, not once looking down on the bullpen, where Will and Stan sat, coffee in hand and looking even more confused. She didn't take the chance of the lift, so she ignored the agent who was holding it for her when she walked past and took the stairs. Jenny walked up, and up, and up until she reached the roof. And only, when the harsh wind that resided high above the pedestrians had hit her face did she let a tear roll down her face. Only then, once the door was closed behind her she slide down the brick wall and let heart wrecking sobs erupt from her small frame.<p>

Mark.

The baby.

His parents.

The wedding.

Their family.

Their life.

As she buried her head in her hands, everything swam around her head. With each one that did, yet another sob erupted. The shrill of her phone ringing was alien; the sound pushed her over the edge. She looked at the offending object and chucked it across the roof, not once caring where it landed as she shouted 'No' simultaneously.

She'd never experienced pain like it. Her father's death had hurt her, but she'd been young and even younger for her mothers. Mark was all she had. She'd lost Jethro, was losing Will. He was everything she had – she'd had. Then she thought of the child growing inside of her, and it broke the shards of her heart that remained even more. Now she would have to raise their child alone.

Part of her hated him in that moment. Hated that Mark had had to be the hero, that Mark had been the one who lost his life when it could so easily have been someone else. Yet at the same time, it was part of the reason why she loved him. His selflessness, his loyalty to his country. But she'd always ask why it could not have been one of the other officers. Why heaven needed him and not someone else.

More tears ran down her face until she had no energy left and no tears left to shed. Then she just stayed there, sat on the roof, watching the birds flying from rooftop to rooftop. Listening to the sound of the cars driving down below, to the horns beeping and the engines running. Jenny saw the tiny dots of people in the distance going about their everyday life. Like nothing had changed. Like a good Naval Officer hadn't died.

Jenny didn't know how long she sat up there, she lost track of time. All she knew

* * *

><p>was that the sun had moved by the time the door opened again, and her stomach was growling. The red head didn't look up to see who it was when she heard the footsteps. She already knew that it was Jethro. Even after everything that had been said he would be there for her.<p>

The former Marine walked over, and sat down on the cold concrete, ignoring the ache of his old battle wounds as he did so. Her face was pale, but her eyes were red from all the crying. The marine felt his heart break for her, promising Mark, once more, that he would look after her. No matter what. Gibbs placed his arm around her and she fell into his side. She couldn't cry anymore, so she just sat there silently. Engulfed in the familiar smell of coffee, sawdust and his aftershave, making her feel safe. Just as the same scent had made her feel safe in Europe, in Paris.

"I'm so sorry Jenny." She didn't reply, and he didn't expect her to. "I know how hard it is."

"No, you don't." Her voice was rough and strangled from the crying even if she was only whispering. The red head closed her eyes. "You don't know what it feels like to know you're gonna have to raise a child alone. To know they're gonna ask where their daddy is and you're gonna have to say that god took them away."

"You're not alone Jenny. You've got all of us, and we're not him, we're not Mark, but we're family." Gibbs sad it with sincerity and the red head knew he meant it. No matter what his feelings, they didn't matter in that moment, the only things that did matter was her, and getting her to cope with the worst thing in her life. Gibbs chose not to comment on her pregnancy, he was guessing from her size it was only a recent discovery.

The pair sat up there for god only knows how long. Gibbs spoke about Shannon and Kelly, telling her how he had felt after their death, and she spoke about Mark, about their baby, about everything they had wanted for the wedding. "I almost wish someone had shot him or something, so I could get him justice. But-"

"It doesn't help. It just makes you as bad as the person who did it." As he spoke, she knew that he was speaking from experience, but she didn't push the matter. It was personal, just as her situation was as well.

"Oh god! I have to ring his parents! They don't know-"

"His CO rang them, as soon as he was off the phone with Tom. They're gonna fly over for the funeral, guess they'll want to meet you too now they're gonna be grandparents."

"I can't get over the fact he's gone, that he's just never coming back." Jenny said, tears escaping her eyes as she carried on looking at the skyline of the city. Remembering every street they had walked down, every kiss they had shared. Remembering the night they had met in that bar, her dressed in those sinful red heels and ripped jeans. She remembered that weekend, and then the day she had met him again on her first day back in the Navy Yard. She remembered New Years Eve, the evenings and weekends spent curled up together…

"He's not completely gone Jenny. He's watching down on you, he's in your heart and most importantly he's in your child. A piece of his is still alive."

"I'm so scared, I don't know the first thing about being a mum."

"You'll be amazing Jenny, you'll figure it out as you go. And I've got your six, I've got both of your sixes." She looked up at him, and she smiled. Her heart was broken, her world was shattered, and her future was the most alien thing she could imagine.

But she wasn't alone, and that was something that she was slowly going to have to learn.


	26. We're All a Little Damaged

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

* * *

><p><em><strong>We're All a Little Damaged<strong>_

* * *

><p>'<em>I guess Heaven was needing a hero<em>_  
><em>_Somebody just like you__  
><em>_Brave enough to stand up for what you believe and follow it though__  
><em>_When I try to make it make sense in my mind__  
><em>_The only conclusion I come to__  
><em>_Is that Heaven was needing a hero like you'  
>-Jo Dee Massina, Heaven was needing a hero<em>

* * *

><p>Jenny didn't know what to do after that. Jethro told her to go home; to curl up and cry if she wanted, to run a bath, to do whatever it was that would let her grieve. But she couldn't, that house, it was as much Mark's house as it was hers. Or at least that was how she saw it. There were his things in every room, his clothes in her wardrobe, his films in her lounge, his cereal in the kitchen and his liquor in her study. It was no longer the empty house where she had lived ever since her father death. For a short while it had been a place of serene happiness once more, just like it had been when she was a child and she lived there with Noemi and a father. It had been a place where smiles and laughter had rang out once more, a place where the mind was free to dream of a picket fence life like the one she had told herself she could not have.<p>

Now ghosts walked through its hallways once more.

She told Jethro she couldn't go home. So he told her to go his house. Yet Jenny couldn't do that either, she couldn't go there so soon after Mark had … gone. Not after the last thing that Gibbs had said to her in that basement, it was too soon for that. One day in the future they would have to address that, one day they would have to sit down and talk it out. That day, however, was not upon them yet. It would be a long time before it was.

So she got up and made her way down the long winding stairs to the bull pen. Jenny didn't know where it was she was heading, but she knew that work was too much to deal with in that moment. She needed to grieve, and to do that she needed to go someplace else; wherever that may be. Before she had headed down she had picked up her phone, the screen was smashed, but thankfully it still worked. As it turned out the missed call had been from Gibbs, asking where she was no doubt. The red head shoved it in her bag as she silently grabbed that and walked out.

Stan and Will were concerned, Jenny's eyes were red, and her makeup had ran and smeared. They had barely ever seen her look like that. The only time they'd seen her look anywhere near as bad was when she had first come into the office after the whole kidnapping incident. That had scared them enough, but now, not knowing what was going on, that scared them more. But she ignored their delicately phrased questions, and left headquarters in silence. It was when Gibbs came down from Tom's office that they got their answer.

As their boss entered the MCRT division, they saw how tired his eyes were and the sadness in them. "Red left, alright for some part timers, eh?" Stan said, trying to lighten the mood. But Gibbs just glared at the agent as he slid into his chair behind the desk that he practically lived behind. It wasn't Gibbs' place to tell the team, and he knew that. But the former marine also knew that after everything they had been through together after nearly losing Jenny when she went undercover, and all the other bullets that had been fired their way, they deserved to know. The team, _his_ team, were a family.

"There was a bombing at a port where Navy officers were collecting some stuff. One officer saw it, and saved the lives of everyone else-"Gibbs began, but he didn't even need to finish, the pair knew exactly what it was that Gibbs was trying to say. They'd seen so many deaths over the years, solved so many cases, given their condolences to so many families. These days their minds automatically went to the worst case scenario. Stan's face fell in regard to his previous comment. Both leant back in their chairs, their faces looking as though they themselves had lost someone.

"He was the officer?" Will clarified, wanting to be certain. Gibbs just nodded. They all felt like it was a punch to the stomach, he'd never forget the hours in sat in Tom's office, waiting to for confirmation from the SecNav that it was Mark whom had been the officer to lose his life. Waiting for confirmation that they were about to tear Jenny's world to shreds. "How did she take it?"

"She's . . ." Gibbs began, but he couldn't think of what to say, they all nodded though, they'd seen the look on her face when she had collected her bag and silently left. The only word any of them could think to use to describe her was broken. Her spirit was broken, her heart was broken, and her hope was broken. But broken was a word none of them would use, because broken was something that you couldn't repair. She would get back, she'd come back bouncing like she always did. It'd take time, hell it would take years and that was something Gibbs could vouch for. But it would happen. So, Jenny wasn't broken, she was bent, bruised, even damaged. She was not broken.

"Damn." Stan said, under his breath as he thought of everything the red headed agent had been through. First the op that had taken her around Europe with Gibbs, then the one in Moscow, the fall outs with her partner and the kidnapping. It was more than any of them could ever comprehend.

"She was so happy this morning, hell she was about to look at old cases." Will stated, thinking how happy she had been recently, thinking about the ring on her left finger, about all her plans for the weddings. It broke their hearts. She deserved so much more. All they ever did was go after women for a one night stand, and then there was Jenny, getting married, getting ready to settle down and start roots. Both of them would swap places with Mark in a heartbeat. In that moment though, a small hint of how short life was passed over them. A sudden realisation.

"Jesus Christ! He was a good one too. Put up with our teasing." Stan said. No one else replied though, because what else could they say. He'd been everything that Jenny deserved and more. He had fitted in with them when they went out for drinks; he'd laughed and joked, and dealt with being the centre of most of them.

It was hard to believe that he was gone.

Stan and Will couldn't even begin to comprehend how Jenny must be feeling.

* * *

><p>Jenny walked aimlessly through the city, wondering from street to street until hours had passed. Eventually she ended up in a park. Her brain couldn't register which one; it had too many other things running through it. She bought a coffee from the vendor, a German man, who used way too much aftershave to be sanitary. Jenny then walked across the park and sat down on a black metal bench.<p>

The coffee went cold before she even thought of drinking it.

Her eyes were glazed over, and the occasional tear ran down her face. She swallowed every sob though, not wanting passersby to feel sorry for her. Yet there were few of those. It was still term time, and she guessed children were not yet out of school for the day. But she sat there even when they walked past, mothers sending her a look of concern as they ushered their children past.

Hours went by, hours upon hours and she just stayed there, with a cup of cold coffee in her hand. If anyone asked her what she was thinking about then she would not be able to answer. Mark, life, fate, destiny, the future. She'd never been religious, not even after her father's death or her mothers. But right in that moment she wished that she was. Jenny wished that she had some place to turn to for solace, wished that she had someone who could explain as to why an innocent man had so needed to be snatched away from this world so cruelly. A man who was a million times better than she herself was.

A man who was about to be a father.

Jenny wasn't religious, fate and destiny confused her. The redhead did, however, believe that everything happened for a reason – or at least she used to. These days it felt like someone was playing a game of cards with her life and had a dire hand. Well, all but one ace anyway, the child she was carrying. Her hand subconsciously went to her stomach, it was flat, but she felt a flutter of nerves at the thought of the child that was growing inside. She remembered the words Mark had said, and her heart broke.

Jenny had practically grown up without a mother and lost her father too young. Now her child was going to grow up without a father. She was all it had.

* * *

><p>By the time she stood up to leave the stars were out and the sky was a dark navy blue. She looked up, as she left the park, and found the brightest star in the sky. "I miss you Mark." She spoke, in a barely audible whisper, another tear rolling down her cheek. "We love you." Jenny added, rubbing circles over her stomach before wrapping her arms around herself, cold from the dropping temperature and spending the entire day outside.<p>

Jenny wandered once more, until she found herself on Ducky's doorstep. She paused, thinking about whether it was a good idea until her knuckles tapped against the wood of the door, and she heard a muffled dog bark. It was soon silenced, just before the door opened and she was face to face with the Scotsman. He was still dressed in his work attire, only now his bowtie had been removed and his top button undone. As soon as he laid his eyes on her fragile form, the irises softened. "I'll put the kettle on my dear." He said, and she smiled, entering the house when he opened the door wider.

It was warm inside, homely. She'd always loved that about this large house, the way it never felt impersonal. Ducky led her into a small sitting room, where there were two leather chairs and a side table where a book lay open. Obviously she had interrupted. "I'm sorry to intrude Ducky, it's just- I didn't know where else to go." She said, sitting down and looking down at her fingers as she played with the chipped nail polish. Her eyes moved to the ring that sparkled in the dim light of the reading lamp.

"You have not intruded my dear, you're always welcome here. Now, let me make a pot of Earl Grey, and we can see if we can't set the world to rights." Jenny just smiled as he disappeared off towards the kitchen to boil the kettle. The red head removed her shoes, and pulled her legs up under her. Looking around the room she looked at the shelves upon shelves of books that lined the walls. Ducky was so intelligent, he'd always reminded her of her father. In her mind she knew that the pair would have gotten along.

She leant over and peaked at the book Ducky had been reading before he interrupted. "Great Gatsby, my dear. A classic, a splendid piece of literature I must admit. Not my usual forte though."

"I've never read it." Jenny replied, looking up as Ducky placed two teacups and saucers down as well as a teapot which matched the elegant decoration. "I'm more of an Austen girl myself."

"Ah, now that is a name that I do admire." He said, pouring the steaming liquid into the china cups before adding a little milk to Jenny's and lemon to his own. "Timeless, however none of the films do it justice."

"My father always said my mother would have frowned upon me if she saw me watching one of them. Her favourite book was persuasion, or at least that is what he always said." Jenny smiled, picking up the teacup and letting the aromatic scent fill her senses. "I always went cliché, and chose Pride and Prejudice. Jethro reminds me of Darcy a little."

"Yes my dear, I dare say he reminds me of him too." Ducky looked at her, and smiled sadly. "Who would Mark be?"

"Mark is – was – more like Prince Charming I think." Ducky watched her, looking tired and worn out.

"I'm so sorry my dear. "

"We meet people on the worst day of their lives, and all we can offer them is 'our condolences'. It's so pathetic, such a small thing. How many people have offered me their condolences in my life Duck? First mum's, then dad's deaths, now Mark's. How many more people can be ripped away from me?!"Jenny's voice broke at the end; a tear escaped her eyes once more. She wondered just how she was still crying after the amount of tears she had shed that day. "And now I've got to raise a child knowing they will never meet their father."

"You're pregnant?" Ducky said with a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, I found out yesterday, I managed to get a video call to Mark too … he was over the moon. "

"Well then my dear, you now have the amazing job of raising a child who will be the son of a hero. And you're not alone, you'll never be alone. No matter what it feels like at the moment."

* * *

><p>'<em>I remember the last time I saw you<em>_  
><em>_Oh you held your head up proud__  
><em>_I laughed inside when I saw how you were, standing out in the crowd__  
><em>_You're such a part of who I am__  
><em>_Now that part will just be void__  
><em>_No matter how much I need you now__  
><em>_Heaven needed you more'  
>-Jo Dee Massina, Heaven was needing a hero<em>


	27. A Father's Pride

**Disclaimer **_I don't own NCIS_

**Author's Note** _I just want to say i'm lucky enough never to have lost anyone that close to me, so if the grief i have depicted is not completely accurate, or if seems unrealistic then i apologise. Thanks for all of your reviews, and i hope you enjoy this! _

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><p><em><strong>A Father's Pride<strong>_

'_You're gone, gone, gone away,__  
><em>_I watched you disappear.__  
><em>_All that's left is a ghost of you.__  
><em>_Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,__  
><em>_there's nothing we can do,__  
><em>_Just let me go, we'll meet again soon.__'  
>-Of Monsters And Men, Little Talks<em>

* * *

><p>Mark's parents arrived the next day, mid morning. Tom had spoken to the Naval officer who was dealing with everything and passed the information about what time their flight would land to Jenny. She left Ducky's the next morning and headed back to her large Georgetown house for the first time since her world had been shattered into a billion pieces. As she stood on the doorstep she mentally told herself she was only there to change and then get to the airport – even though the flight did not land for another two hours.<p>

She placed the old key her father had had cut for her back when she started high school in the lock, and slowly turned it, applying the familiar amount of force that was needed to get the internal workings of the mechanism moving. She'd been told by so many people over the years to replace the door with a Yale one, but she'd refused point blank. The door meant a lot to her, it had acted as a gateway to so many people into her life, so many members of her family had walked through it, many of whom would never walk through another door again. It was a piece of her history. It was a part of her story.

When it came to it being able to pick the lock; well she knew that wasn't a possibility. She herself had tried to do so once before when she had forgotten to take her key and Noemi had already left to go home. It was safe to say that she had not succeeded that day. Additionally, there were many people who couldn't even open it with the key in their hand let alone without it. She'd never change it; the solid wooden door was too sentimentally valuable.

She pushed the heavy structure away from her, and looked at the entranceway which spread out before her. Leaning down she picked up the post which had collected on the floor and stepped in. Placing the letters on the sideboard without even giving them a second look and then closing the door behind her. It had only been vacant for a night; the house. But it felt cold, and as though it had been abandoned for centuries and centuries. When the door banged shut as it always did, the sound rattled through the building. The sound bounced off of the empty rooms and into another.

Already Jenny could feel the pricking of tears at the inside of her eyes, rapidly she blinked them away. Or at least she did until she walked into her room then into her wardrobe and where saw his clothes hung up beside her own. They'd never officially moved into one of their houses, but half of his stuff was at her place. He had stayed there practically every night. In fact the only time he didn't was when he had been out with his friends and got drunk. Those nights, instead of waking Jenny from her desperately needed sleep he would stay at his own house and she would go over the next morning with coffee and bagels for breakfast.

Her hand went to his shirts, running her hands over the material, soft beneath her fingertips. Walking further down she reached his hoodies and took the sleeve of one, smelling it as she did so. It smelt like Mark, like his aftershave and his body wash. Tears silently ran down her face as she thought of him, no doubt on some plane ready to be flown home with a flag across the top of him. He didn't deserve to be dead.

* * *

><p>An hour later and Jenny was back in the wardrobe only now she had showered and dried her hair. She looked at her clothes, not knowing what to wear. What she wanted to wear was his clothes, she wanted to be surrounded by the scent of the man who had been too good for her, to feel like he was still there, still close to her. Part of her also wanted to make a good impression on the grandparents of her unborn child. So she looked at the rows upon rows of clothes hanging in her wardrobe. At the fancy dresses she'd bought for numerous balls her father's status had has her attending, at the summer dresses she had bought for Paris, at the business suits that she'd bought and not taken to Moscow. Then she looked at the hoodies which were Mark's all over again. She decided that now wasn't a time to impress. So she pulled on a pair of acid wash skinny jeans, a white vest top and marks NAVY zip up hoodie. Immediately she felt at home, immediately she felt like Mark was about to return. About to wrap his strong arms around her waist and softly place a kiss under her ear.<p>

It hurt to remember that none of that was about to happen.

Looking at her smashed up phone she saw the time and knew she had to leave, so pulled on her favourite heeled ankle boots and left the house. By the time she got in the car to leave her hands were shaking with nerves. These people would be a part of her life from now on, and the person that was the reason they were meeting couldn't even be there. And that saddened Jenny. When they had spoken about her meeting his parents before the wedding he'd seamed so excited, in fact it had been contagious. Mark had had such a strong relationship with his parents even after they retired to Ireland. And Jenny, about to embark on a massive journey with Mark, had been desperate to make a good impression.

Now she was on her way to see them, on one of the worst days of their lives.

Jenny knew that she would ask them to stay with her, simply because she didn't want to be alone. Part of her didn't trust herself to leave the bottle alone when she was carrying a child. The spare bedroom was also always made up as Noemi was always prepared for guests. After all, there had been numerous times that Jenny's townhouse had been used as a safe house for a whiteness or child, and numerous times Gibbs had been kicked out of his own house by one wife or another and needed a room. It had been something Noemi had always believed in, and for Jenny it had always been a saving grace. Just as it would be now.

When she finally parked up and made her way into the crowded arrivals room she felt overwhelmed. There were so many people so many smiling and happy couples being reunited, so many children running to their mother or father… Jenny couldn't help but think about how her child would never get to run to its father's feet and be picked up and spun around whilst they both laughed a contagious laughter that made her heart swell. The red head stood there, and looked around. She didn't know how Mark's parents found her, but they did. Saying that their son had described her as having the most amazing red hair and captivating green eyes, and as soon as they had seen her they had known that it was Jenny.

"It's… it's lovely to finally meet you, I just-" Jenny cut herself off, looking up at the sky. Mark's mum just nodded. Marie, that was her name, and she was beautiful. Her hair was brown, but there was grey showing just a little. It suited her, and was cut so that it hit just below her shoulders. She wore boot cut jeans and a green blouse, Jenny couldn't help but admire her, she struck Jenny as the sort of woman who had looked beautiful her entire life and always would do. The dark brown eyes were dull, but she imagined that just like Marks they sparkled when she was happy.

"Mark spoke of you all the time and I can see why." Mark's father, Ben, said. He looked just like an older version of Mark, his hair was all silver, parted to one side and classically styled. Jenny couldn't help but wonder if Mark would have looked like him when he was older.

Jenny blushed; she didn't know what to say. "I thought you probably wouldn't have had time to book a room so you can stay at my house? I have plenty of room-"

"We wouldn't want to intrude sweetheart." Marie said, but Jenny just furiously shook her head.

"You wouldn't be intruding, not at all. Mark, he erm… he practically lived there with me, I just thought if you wanted to feel close with him…" Jenny let the sentence trail off. She'd heard from Mark that his parents were quite traditional, and she didn't want them to frown upon the relationship that she had shared with their son.

"As long as you are sure." With that Jenny took one of their bags and led them off to her car. She helped them load and then Ben got in the front with her and Marie got in the back. Jenny's phone was in a holder so that she could answer calls whilst she drove, meaning Ben could see the smashed screen. He nodded towards it before speaking.

"I take it you didn't mean to do that." His voice was light, trying to make conversation whilst it was laced with pain and sadness.

"No." Jenny said, smirking as she took her turn off of the main road. "I, I was sat on the roof at HQ, I'd just found out and Jethro was ringing me. I didn't want to answer so I chucked it across the rooftop. I'm surprised it didn't go over the edge, it really would have broken then!" She said it in a light hearted way, and it made Ben laugh. But she was quite sure that he was just humouring her.

"HQ?" Questioned Marie from the back. There was a conscious effort from them all not to mention Mark, because no one wanted to break down, but they were all on a high wire a mile above, about to fall off and shatter into a million pieces emotionally all over again.

"Yeah, I work for NCIS, Navy Cops." Jenny stated, clarifying, she saw the older woman nod in the background. Jenny already knew the next question.

"Is that how you met Mark?"

Jenny inwardly groaned, how was she meant to tell the people who could have been her in-laws that she was in fact out on the pull when she met him? Without sounding like a slut? "I actually met him in a bar, just before I went on a covert operation. I didn't see him for a long time because it kinda went south. But yeah, we actually met up again on my first day back in the Navy Yard. He was the first person I spoke to."

"You obviously meant an awful lot to him." Marie said, as Jenny pulled up outside the house.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Marie had turned in for the evening after an emotional day and jetlag. Jenny had ordered take out for tea and they'd all gathered around the table to eat, but barely little was said. Ben and Marie had gone up not long after, and guessed that he'd stayed with her until she was asleep. Jenny hoped one day she would be able to have a relationship like that. But for now all she could think about was her fiancé.<p>

The red was sat in her study, curled up in one of the armchairs; her head leant against the worn leather of the back as tear silently rolled down her cheeks. She heard Ben come down, but didn't move. Part of her had hoped he was back in bed with Marie so that she could just remain alone and didn't have to try and be strong for anyone. One hand was against her stomach, and she couldn't help but think about her child. In her mind she decided that if it was a boy then she would give him the middle name 'Mark' in memory of his father, or maybe the first name? Mark Jasper, in memory of the two greatest men she had loved and lost. MJ. Then she thought about if it was a girl-

"You have anything stronger than tea in here?" Asked Ben, as he stood at the door looking at the woman who would have been his daughter in law. When Mark had told them about her, both him and Marie had been dubious, they'd always told him to take it slow, and their engagement – in their opinion – had come about awful fast. But as soon as he had spoken to her he knew exactly why that had been. The red head reminded him so much of his son. The way that she had a no nonsense attitude. The way that she obviously had a massive heart.

Jenny smiled at his question before nodding over to the drinks cabinet. "There is bourbon over there, maybe some Jack, I'm not sure though." She said, smiling at his look of shock.

"Bourbon? Well, I'm guessing that is your poison of choice?"

"Yes, a … very good friend got me hooked." She stated, smiling at the memory of Jethro forcing her to drink the paint stripper and refusing to buy anything else in Paris.

"Can I get you one?" his voice was raw with emotion, emotion that his face did not show. But it was also soft, and warm, and so much like Marks it made her want to dry all over again.

"No, I can't." She said, without even thinking about it. As soon as he had poured his drink he sat down on the other chair, and looked at her. She looked so fragile from where she was sat, looked as though she had been broken so many times.

"You're pregnant." It wasn't a question, and that was what threw Jenny, she looked shocked for a minute, wondering how to explain it.

"That's not why we got engaged, I didn't find out until two days ago." She said, immediately wanting him to know that she had wanted to marry Mark because she loved him and because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

"I didn't think it was." He said, smiling softly as he took a sip of the bourbon. His face made Jenny smirk; it really was an acquired taste. "I'd forgotten just how much this stuff tasted like paint stripper!" He exclaimed. Jenny just smiled, and leant her head against the chair still. "You mind if I tell Marie tomorrow? She cried herself to sleep tonight, it might just, I don't know, give her something to smile about."

"I don't mind at all, just no one else. I haven't even seen a doctor yet, I wanted to wait to tell anyone. As soon as I told Mark though he turned around and told the rest of his crew. They were all hugging him and congratulating me." Ben watched as Jenny's eyes glazed over. If he had ever had any doubt about why she was marrying his son then they all disappeared in that moment. Because the look in her eyes was of pure admiration.

"You got to tell him?" Ben questioned, surprised that she had been able to get in touch with him.

"Yeah, it's the advantage of being friends with the Director of NCIS. He got me a fifteen minute video chat with him. I'll never forget just how happy he looked."

"Mark had always wanted to settle down and have children. May I ask how you told him?"

"I said that we needed to move the wedding date forward because I wouldn't be this slim for much longer." Jenny said, and she watched as the smile grew on Ben's face.

"I want you to know, Mark may have told you that Marie and I were quite traditional in our ways, but we don't disapprove of the way you two did things. We always knew that with Mark's job things wouldn't happen the traditional way. We're not ashamed of him or you, we are proud of everything he did and everything he sacrificed." Ben watched as Jenny wiped fresh tears from her cheeks. "But I also think that we are going to be proud to call you the mother of our grandchild."


	28. Picture Perfect Memories

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors** **Note **_Sorry for the delay, my life is manic right now. I hope this is okay. Enjoy. And keep those super awesome reviews coming please. _

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><p><em><strong>Picture Perfect Memories<strong>_

'_Looking back,__  
><em>_endless memories in a photograph,__  
><em>_come back,__  
><em>_wishing for another day with you.'  
>-Julia Sheer, The Photograph<em>

* * *

><p>The circumstances in which Mark had died meant that it would be two weeks from his death when he finally could be laid to rest. Apparently they had to increase security on the ship, and all flights out bound were being cancelled for the next two weeks until the situation was under control and the threat was suitable neutralised. For Jenny, Marie and Ben who were waiting in the States, this was the worst news they could have been given. They wanted to lay the man they loved to rest, because it was what he deserved. He deserved to finally be at peace, to be honoured for his courage and bravery. Not to be left waiting on some ship in the middle of nowhere.<p>

When they had gotten the news Mark's parents had told Jenny that they would move out because it was too long of a period of time to impose on her, but she had told them not to be silly, and that they could stay. In truth it was on a selfish note in the sense that she felt like as long as they were staying in the same house as her, then she still had a piece of Mark living just meters away. So they stayed, and Jenny let them do their thing, not interfering in their grieving just as they did not interfere in hers. Jenny went to her doctor's appointment, a week after she had found out that her and Mark had made a miracle, and it was the first time she had worn clothes that were not her fiancés.

Jenny had sat in that hospital waiting room, dressed in leggings and a baggy teal blouse, the one with the black leather collar that she always loved. Whilst she waited for her name to be called she looked around, and her heart nearly broke. Each and every other person in there was not alone; they had either a friend, a relative or the baby's father there with them. Then there was Jenny, alone. She was simply supported by the range of literature on the table beside her and the posters pinned up on the walls around her.

When Marie had found out that she was going to be a grandmother she had cried in a bitter sweet manner and hugged Jenny. The red head knew that if she asked then they would have accompanied her to the appointment. But she also knew that she could not spend the rest of her life relying on the support of others. So that was why she sat there alone, on a hard plastic chair with a book on her lap. The book was entitle 'what to expect when you're expecting', but the only thing that Jenny could think about was how the baby's father would never get to see their child growing inside of his fiancé – or wife as she would have been.

Jenny's appointment didn't last long, it was confirmed that she was pregnant, and she was told that she was about 8 weeks along. Jenny was thrilled, but at the same time she wanted to cry because now there was no avoiding the fact that she would have to raise this child alone as a single mother who had not blood relatives. When the appointment was over, she booked her next one, and then she left the sterile corridors and walked out onto the pavement outside. Jenny walked a little, before she leant back against the hard red brick of the hospital building. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about the child that was growing inside of her. The one she and Mark had created.

Without even a second thought she pulled out her phone from her pocket and pressed speed dial to Gibbs' phone. Looking at the smashed up screen she was reminded she still needed to buy a replacement. She hadn't spoken to Jethro since the day on the rooftop nearly a week ago, and she wasn't feeling much more together than she had been then. But she needed a friend, she needed someone who was not wrap her in a blanket and treat her like she was some sick woman who needed looking after around the clock.

"Yeah, Gibbs." He answered, in his usual gruff tone. As Jenny closed her eyes, for a moment at least, it felt like everything was normal again, like she was ringing him to tell him she had a lead on a case. For a moment her brain flicked back to a week and a half ago, before her world had crashed down around her feet. When every one of the hopes and dreams she finally allowing herself to have had been dropped off of the top of a building and splattered all over the ground below.

"It's me." She said, her voice soft and calm, but laced with emotion and tears she wanted to shed. Jenny heard him breath in, and the sound of his feet moving as he no doubt moved away from prying ears who were wondering why Jenny had not been at work all week.

"Hey, how are you?" His voice was softer and more tentative than it usually was. Jenny's heart swelled once more, if she had not put on a mask and was not refusing to shed another tear that day, then it would easily have been enough to make her break.

"I . . . Do you want to get coffee? Or tea for me, if you're not busy-"

She was cut off by his gruff reply telling her he'd be at his favourite shop in twenty minutes. Jenny couldn't mask the small smile that spread across her face as she hung up and headed in the direction of the small back street coffee shop that Gibbs had taught her to favour when she got the chance.

* * *

><p>Jenny sat in a booth by the window as she waited. The booths were typical of the cliché American diner, red leather and glass covered tables with stainless steel legs on them. But the rest of the shop was a lot more classical, with small wooden tables. The two styles clashed fabulously, and it almost looked like the booths had been left in from a previous owner. The windows were large and covered practically the entire of the shop frontage. They themselves were covered with wording telling the passing world about the new coffees that were 'now in' but had in fact been sold there for as long as Jenny had known the shop existed. All the wording was done in white, and the door was covered in chalk marker telling everyone about the new breakfast deal which would only be around for a short while.<p>

The street outside was small, and mainly filled with charity shops and small non-chain home accessory shops. The kind that sold those wooden plaques with phrases on and mugs that someone had painted so that they were 'one of a kind'. It was street though, that was busy because of its location. It linked two of the main streets in the centre of DC and so many people used it. But very few ever actually stopped and looked. Just as she never hadn't until Jethro had brought her here.

The red head reminded herself of the day that she had introduced Mark to it. On their first date. When she had met him on the main high street he had just frowned, furrowing his brow in confusion when she passed Starbucks and took his down the small street. He'd smiled though, when he had walked in and the smell of coffee had reached his senses. She'd ordered her usual Jamaican blend, added sugar and cream. He however had chosen a simple black filter coffee, and both had had a piece of the home made pie. Mark had chosen Pumpkin, simply because it reminded him of his family Thanks Giving's.

As Jenny sat there she looked over at it, and found herself craving a piece of the cherry pie which she could see was sat on the counter. Deciding that she was eating for two, and that was the ebst excuse she would ever have, she gave in and ordered some. Telling herself that she had read somewhere that you should give into the cravings, no matter how odd they were. Her eyes looked out the window, and she saw Gibbs approaching, his face set in a look which was almost pouting. She'd never tell him that though, he'd only deny it and take the remark as an insult to his gruff façade which was so very precious to him.

The silver haired agent went over to the counter and ordered his coffee before scanning the room for her red hair which was unmistakable wherever she went and went to join her. "Hey." Jenny said softly as he slid into the booth and joined her. She watched as Gibbs' features softened and he took in her appearance.

"How are you?" Straight to the point, it was typical Gibbs. She couldn't help but smirk a little at the question, before she began to think how to answer. There was no need to lie to him, or put on a brave face. She knew that he too had lost the love of his life, and knew exactly what she was going through. Unlike all the other people that told her they understood when in actual fact they had no clue. In all honestly, she didn't even believe that Ben and Marie understood, they had one another for support, but she felt like she didn't have anyone. Also, there was no point in lying because he had always been able to read her like an open book.

Jenny had taken Marie and Ben to Mark's apartment the other day, telling them that he hadn't really lived there much since the engagement, but that they could go and look and do whatever they wanted. That evening they'd ridden up to her house in a taxi, sad looks on their faces and carrying boxes, which were still in her study unopened. Those sad looks were ones which seamed ever engraved into their faces since the moment Jenny had met them. But then again who could blame them, you're never meant to outlive your children.

"I don't know. I guess the fact I'm not crying is something but, hell I miss him so much Jethro. I loved him so much more than I ever thought that I would." She looked down at her cup of tea, the taste was subtler than coffee, but she couldn't drink that anymore – or at least her doctor had advised her not to. "I want him to be here you know? I mean his parents are so lovely, and they're so much like him. I just wish he could have at least had us all in the same room once, I wish he could-" A tear ran down her face and she quickly wiped it away, stopping mid sentence and not continuing simply because she didn't know quite how she was meant to.

"I get it Jen." He said, and she smiled at the affectionate nickname. They remained silent whilst the waitress brought over Gibbs' coffee and Jenny's pie which was topped with extra ice cream. Jenny dug in as soon as it arrived, and Jethro just smirked at her.

"I'm eating for two Gibbs! Don't you dare give me that look!" She exclaimed, in mock outrage as she pointed her fork at him and gave a glare which would compete with his own infamous one.

"How is the urm-"

"The baby?" Jenny asked, with a smirk at her partner's slight discomfort. In truth Gibbs had forgotten she was pregnant, and it would take a while for him to actually realise that she was going to be a mother, for it to settle in. It was something he'd never thought of Jenny as being. He'd imagined her being the head of her own team, imagined her jet setting around the world and even being the next Director or next SecNav, but never had he imagined her as a mother. He didn't know why he hadn't, but he just hadn't.

"Yeah." He grumbled, taking a sip of the strong black coffee. Since last week when he had watched her leave headquarters with tears streaming down her face he hadn't stopped worrying, but Ducky had told him to leave her be, and that she would reach out to him in her own time, when she was ready. And she had. As he looked at her now, hair lose and grazing the top of her shoulders, a few layers softly taken back, and face pretty much free of makeup, she looked amazing. There was the pregnancy glow to her. But she still wasn't the same Jenny that Mark had started to turn her back into; the sparkle in her eye was so dulled so much now that it was barely there.

"Okay, I think. I had my first appointment today, I'm about eight weeks along, and I'm due December 23rd." Jenny said, taking the final bite of her pie, and then once she was done she pushed her plate to one side, before taking a deep breath and looking at him. "I know it's early, but after Mark's… well I'm scared about everything. I mean if I get shot and die then this child will have no one. Will you be their God Father Jethro? It'd mean a lot."

Gibbs smiled, a big and real smile that she had only seen a handful of times in all the years that she had known him and worked with him. "Course I will be." He took her hand and squeezed it. The pair finished their drinks, and made small talk about the case he was currently working on before they got up and left. Gibbs went back to headquarters and Jenny made the walk back to her house. It wasn't a long walk, but it would be long enough for her to begin to sort through her thoughts.

* * *

><p>A half hour or so later, after making a detour for an ice cream – as it seemed that the amount on top of her pie had not been enough to satisfy her craving – she returned to the grand Georgetown House that had been passed down in her family for many years. Part of her wondered if the child growing inside of her would one day inherit it, and love it as much as she did. If they would then pass it on down to their children or whether they'd just sell it as so many other houses had experienced down her street as of late.<p>

Jenny walked into the house and was greeted by the sound of voices. She smiled; simply because they were not sad or crying voices, but smiling ones. The red head placed her house keys in the bowl which was on top of the sideboard before following the sound into her study. When she entered she was a little confused, as sat on the rug in the middle of the room was Ben and Marie, both surrounded by a tonne of different pictures, and a box that she contained all of her own photos. A box which she was sure had been in her room.

"Hello Jenny." Ben greeted her, and the red head instantly smiled. There was something about the elder man which was comforting, the same thing that had probably made her relax so much and open up when Mark was around.

"Hello sweetheart." Marie welcomed warmly. Jenny couldn't help but smile even broader. Marie looked a lot better, there was still a small shadow in her eyes as she smiled, but her skin had more colour to it and more than anything else she wasn't crying. "You look a lot happier today."

"Thanks." Jenny said, thinking how much good it had done her getting out of the house and seeing Jethro. In the back of her mind it struck her that she would have to go into HQ pretty soon and sort things out. There was only so much compassionate leave that one person could take, especially when Gibbs would be losing Decker anyway in a few weeks. Then it struck her she still had to talk to Marrow about the pregnancy. Momentarily it was all too much and she perched on the edge of the chair, making herself breath in and out. "I had my first doctor's appointment, it turns out I'm eight weeks along." Jenny said softly, when she had composed herself. She watched as Marie smiled even more.

"Oh how wonderful!" Marie said, and Ben took her hand for a moment, squeezing it softly. Jenny watched the pair; she'd never truly believed that there was such a thing as a soul mate. After all her parents had died when she was young, and she couldn't really remember how they had acted around each other. As she looked at Ben and Marie now, she was beginning to believe that it did exist. They'd spent so many years together, raised an amazing son, and yet they were still obviously head over heels in love with one another.

"What are you doing anyway?" She questioned, looking at the mass of photos spewed all over the floor, some of which she had never even seen, others she was in and a few she had taken.

"We're looking for a picture of Mark to put on top of his coffin. We asked your housekeeper where you kept your photos; she got them out for us. We didn't mean to intrude-" Ben stated.

"No, its fine I don't mind. May I help?" Jenny questioned hesitantly. Secretly she hoped that one of his parents would be able to tell her a little more about the man she had loved so much. When she thought about it she only knew very little. She kept her past under lock and key, so they'd never shared childhood stories. He'd told her about his antics on the ships when he was deployed, but that was all.

"Of course you can, maybe you can tell us what he was like with you. We didn't see him that often." Marie said. "And we never saw you together." Jenny instantly felt bad, they'd been planning on visiting Ben and Marie in Ireland, but with his latest deployment it had been pushed on.

"We were planning a visit, I don't know if you knew. After he proposed, we wanted to come and see you, wanted to talk to you about the wedding." Jenny said, smiling softly at the thought of how different this first meating could have been.

"What had you planned for the wedding?"

"We'd erm, we'd decided that because I don't have any blood family, my mother died when I was very young and father died when I was in my late teens. I said I didn't want a big charade, it would have been too empty, so we agreed to have something like forty or fifty guests and that would be it. I wanted the team there, my team from work, and that was about it for me. He said he wanted his crew, and a few close family. It would have been . . ."

"Perfect." Ben said, looking at her and smiling softly. "Were you going to be given away?"

"Yes, I was going to ask Ducky. He's the ME, he's been like a father to me over the years."

"What a strange name." Marie observed.

"Doctor Donald Mallard." Jenny stated, leaning forward when she saw the picture of them all on new year's eve, Mark was the one who had taken the picture. "Here, that's him." She said, pointing out the doctor from the picture. He was stood between Jenny and Jethro – no doubt to try and prevent them from arguing as much as was possible - bow tie in place and looking as smart as ever. That charming grin on his face as he looked at the camera.

"Is this your team?" Marie asked, and Jenny nodded in response.

"Yeah, Mark took the picture. I was on New Year 's Eve. Jethro – my partner – his wife had organised the party." Jenny stated, pointing to Gibbs. "We were all there, Stan and Will who are on my team, the Director; Tom Marrow, then there was Tobias Fornell who is FBI too." Jenny pointed to each of them individually. It was a lovely picture, and she'd always meant to frame it simply because it summed them up. Gibbs was looking his usual gruff self; Ducky was smiling, just as Jenny was. Then Will and Stan were messing around and Fornell was laughing whilst looking a little out of place in the whole ordeal.

"You all look very close." Ben said, as he looked at the picture.

"We are, they saved my life when I thought I was going to die and no one was looking for me. They-"She cut herself off, trying to push her emotions away. "They're all the family I have now."

"That's not true, you have us now. That's our grandchild in there, and we want to be a part of the little ones life." Marie said, and Jenny just smiled, realising that she had another family as well now. Marie took Jenny's hand and squeezed it softly; they were all silent for a minute before Jenny reached across for a picture of Mark. It looked like he was only in his late teens. He was stood on the bed of a pickup with two friends all of them pulled a James Bond slash Charlie's Angels pose. Jenny couldn't help but smirk as she looked at him.

Ben looked at the picture and chuckled at the sight of it. "That was taken on their last day of high school. We all went down to the river near where we lived and had a barbeque. Marie wanted to a take a picture of them all, the next thing I knew they were stood like that!"

Marie smirked. "You missed out the part where two minutes later all of the dads were doing the same thing…"

* * *

><p>The night went on like that, sharing stories and looking at photos. Jenny couldn't help but find the irony in feeling like she really met Mark that evening, like she actually began to learn who the man behind the uniform was. By the time they all fell asleep they still had to decide on a photo to use, but not one of them actually wanted to make that decision. Because how could you sum up a person's life in one photo?<p> 


	29. His Funeral

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

**Authors note** _Between holiday, work and a poorly laptop this had been pushed further and further down the pile. So, i apologise, thanks for all the reviews, and please continue leaving them. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>His Funeral<strong>_

'_This tunnel's dark__  
><em>_But there's a little light glowing__  
><em>_Bright enough for me to run toward knowing__  
><em>_Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again'  
>-Hayden Panettiere, Nothing in This World Will Ever Break My Heart Again<em>

* * *

><p>The morning of the funeral was warm, but Jenny didn't feel warm. She felt cold and alone as she sat in the big old house she had grown up in. Upstairs Ben and Marie were no doubt asleep; the red head had gone to bed earlier than them. And anyway, it was only just eight. But she'd been up and awake since before the first bird had even began to sing the morning in.<p>

After lying awake in bed for what seemed like an eternity she had decided that it was pointless attempting to sleep. So she had got up, dressed in her running clothes and left the darkness of the house for the empty city streets. As she ran, her feet had pounded on the pavement in a perfect rhythm that she had rehearsed over the years; a rhythm that allowed her to think as she went. And as she did so, she had begun to think about her future, about life without Mark.

It was strange, a life without him was something she was now having to consider when only a month or so ago she had been considering what living a life with him would be life. A life where she would return home every night to someone to hug her, where she would return to someone who after a day when her confidence in mankind had been shattered, would slowly put it back together again.

Now she was back to returning to a cold bed, in an ancient house, where ghosts walked through every door.

Jenny ran, and ran and ran for nearing an hour. She didn't need music, her thoughts were loud enough as she ran the pavement of the familiar streets that she had walked for so many years of her life. Streets that she had grown up on, and fallen in love on. Now that she ran along as she had to try and put back together the map that her life would take.

She'd heard that woman never lost their baby weight; that they never lost the extra pounds or stone that they put on. But Jenny vowed not to be one of those women. Even when she was as big as a house she was going to stay fit – she had to in her job – or at least that was what she told herself.

As she ran, Jenny realised she hadn't given much thought to what she would do after the child was born. She would have to work – she wanted to work – as there was no one else to provide for them Then there was her baby to consider, where would he or she go whilst their mother was jumping in the line of fire? Jenny had heard that some of the female agents were putting a petition together to get a nursery in NCIS headquarters – but would it be enough? Would it be ready? Jenny thought of Noemi, the poor woman couldn't be expected to look after a baby as well as the house that was for sure.

Then there was the question of baby proofing the house. She would have to decide which room the baby would sleep in, move and re-arrange furniture so that it was more suitable, sort out the garden. She'd have to buy a cot, and a baby changing station and . . . In that moment Jenny realised that this was going to test her more than any case ever had done. She had thought that being kidnapped was the hardest thing she would ever face; now she was beginning to think that it would be a walk in the park compared to being a mother.

An hour after she left, she had arrived back at the town house. The large towering building was still in darkness as she looked up at it, it was still silent as she walked in. But the first few rays of morning sunlight had begun to push away the night sky.

She had showered and changed after that, and now was sat in the kitchen staring hap hazardly at a cup of tea that had long gone cold. The red head had already dressed for the funeral which was to begin at eleven. Yet she had barely managed to comprehend why she was dressing in all black. It was tradition, she knew that just like she knew that it was a sign of respect. But mark had been so full of life and part of her wondered if she should just go and put a floral dress on to prove her point.

But one look at the dress and it had all felt wrong.

So she sat there, in a pair of black boot cut trousers that she wore when she had to be in court and a black cami with spaghetti straps – it was too warm for anything else. Jenny looked down at her nails, the only colour on her. They were painted in emerald green, she'd done them the night before when she vowed that come the funeral she would remember the good times. She had vowed that instead of being sad about the time they had lost she would be grateful for the time they had had. That she would be grateful for the amazing gift of a child that Mark had given her.

How long would that last? She wondered. How long would she manage not to cry for? She was betting that it wouldn't last long at all.

The night before they had finally decided on the picture that they would use for on top of Mark's coffin. It wasn't the classic official Navy head shot that most chose, simply for the reason that there had been so much more to Mark than just his job in the Navy, so much more than just being able to follow orders. So instead they had chosen a picture of him that Marie had taken the last Christmas. He was smiling, because he didn't know she was taking it.

Jenny had filled up at the sight of it, but then again she filled up at everything recently.

The red head sighed and ran a hand through her still damp hair, she knew that she should do something with it before her natural waves went hay wire and couldn't be tamed. But that involved moving, and it seemed like all her energy had been taken up by simply breathing.

At the sound of footsteps Jenny was brought out of her thoughts as she saw Ben waling into the kitchen. He looked smart, but then again he had a way about him that he always looked smart; dressed in a pair of black pants, a white shirt and a blue tie unfastened around his neck. Jenny smiled at the colour, and he smiled at her nails knowing they had both had the same thought.

"Morning." She said softly, and he replied with the same greeting. He then grabbed a cup and made himself a coffee, and her another tea before sitting down opposite her and placing the tea in front of her. Jenny smiled as she moved the stone cold one to a side and out of her way.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, I don't seem to have had any morning sickness yet which is a good thing." She said smiling. It was strange how she found that she was noticing even the smaller parts of her behaviour more in case they told her something about the pregnancy. She'd decided that she would continue the diary of her pregnancy she had initially started for Mark. Maybe that way the story would reach him up in heaven.

"I want to be a granddad." He said, out of the blue and Jenny looked at him with a furrowed brow. "I don't want to be a grandpa, or a pawpaw, or whatever else people are calling them these days. I want to be Granddad."

"Granddad Ben." Jenny said, with a warm smile as she placed her hand of her stomach, a warm feeling rising inside of her at the thought.

"Jenny, I don't… I didn't know when to ask you, but Marie and I were talking. We thought maybe, for the end of your pregnancy and the first few months of the baby you would consider coming and staying in Ireland with us. You could stay for as long or short as you want, it's just quieter, and well, we'd be there to help. You would have your own space – we've got an annex. But it is completely up to you."

Jenny took a sip of her tea and rolled the idea around in her head for a moment. It would be a good idea, she'd be able to have a fresh start, but then there was Jethro and Stan, because Decker would be gone by then. They wouldn't get to see her child or her, and they were family too weren't they? "Can I think about it? I just, I don't know what I want yet."

"Of course, it's completely up to you." He said, squeezing her hand and smiling before making a second cup of coffee. "I'd best take this up to lady sleepyhead." He said with a smile, both trying to avoid the topic that was the reason why they were all getting up. Jenny just nodded and he began to leave the room, but she stopped him, as he reached the door.

"Ben." She said, looking at the older man as he turned to her. From that angle, in profile, in early morning light, he looked just like Mark. "Thank you." He just nodded in response, it didn't matter what she chose to do, because in that moment she knew that whatever happened they would be a part of this baby's life and in turn a part of her life.

Running a hand through her hair once more she stood up and went to go and finish getting ready. Her hands shook softly at the thought of the funeral. At the thought that this was the end of a big part of her life. That today she would say her final goodbye to this man, to the man that had turned her world upside down. To a man that had made her happier than she had ever thought that she could be. A tear rolled down her cheek at the thought.

* * *

><p>Eleven o'clock came around, and everyone was sat outside, at the side of the coffin with the Chaplin on the other side saying a few words. All of Mark's crew were thee, all the men he had saved. Most were bruised and battered from the explosion, one was on crutches and another had his arm in plaster. But all were very much alive, and that was something that Jenny envied them for. Because Mark wasn't.<p>

Jenny, Marie and Ben sat in the middle of the first row, and couple of Navy officers on either side, along with Mark's CO. Mark would be awarded the Medal of Honour next year for what he did, but for the time being he would have a full Military Honours funeral. With gunned solute and the presentation of the flag. Most of it went by in a blur for Jenny. Gibbs and the team along with Tom Marrow were all sat somewhere nearer the back. She was at the front.

Jenny didn't listen to the speech given by Mark's CO.

All she heard from Marie and Ben was that he was 'the most incredible man' and that they 'could not be prouder of everything he achieved'. Then it was Jenny's turn, and she stood up, and all of a sudden she looked at all the faces in front of her and felt a fraud. They'd all known him so much longer, been through so much more than she had with him. And yet it was her who would have the final word.

"Mark…" she stopped, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "The second time he met me, I was broken, and hurt, and I could barely even think about the future, about my future. And yet in the short time I knew him he made me realise how much I had to live for. He gave me a chance to see past my demons and _love. _I wish, _god I wish_ he was here so he could see what that love created. Because I love him, and he will always be… He'll always be the one who saved me."

Jenny sat down after that, tears streamed down her face and she wiped them away briskly. From behind her Gibbs felt his heart break, he knew what she was feeling and his heart went out to her. Never would he wish that pain on anyone - ever.

* * *

><p>Everyone had gone home, but she was sat there on that park bench looking at the graveyard. She'd already visited her father's grave, already cried at Mark's. She was all cried out and yet she couldn't leave. Because leaving meant that this chapter of her life was over, and she wasn't ready for that – not yet. She wasn't ready to have to accept that Mark was gone, wasn't ready to think about raising this baby they had made alone.<p>

The sound of footsteps on grass made her look up to see Jethro. She hadn't spoken to him afterwards, she'd been surrounded by people offering their commiserations. But they were just words. So the team had given her smiles across the distance and left – or at least she thought they had. Gibbs took a seat beside her but they both remained silent, his presence was enough to give her strength though.

"Ben and Marie have offered to let me stay with them in Ireland for a while, so they can help me for the first couple of months after the baby is born." Jenny said, turning to look at Jethro's face as he listened to her words. She didn't know what she expected to see. Jenny guessed that she wanted to see sadness, because she would leave him, wanted some sign that maybe he wanted her in his life. But part of her wondered if all of this, the death, the baby, she wondered if it had changed how he said he felt that night in his basement.

"You should go, it's a good idea." His voice was calm, soft and not laced with pain or sadness. It surprised her, but too late she realised that it shouldn't. She realised that despite everything both of them had only ever wanted what was best for the other. Despite everything going to Ireland would be the best idea for her, and that was why he supported her. "It will be hard at first, especially if it's a boy." And Jenny knew what he meant by that statement. She knew that it meant that if it was a boy, and he looked like his father, then she would be reminded of how much pain his death had caused her, on a daily basis. It was something she had worried about.

"What about work?" She questioned her voice was raw from the crying, and it was rough. But Gibbs barely even noticed, he'd thought she was stunning even the first time he saw her after Moscow – when she was bruised, battered, and underweight.

"You'll have maternity leave anyway, and there is a base in Ireland if you wanted to work anyway." Jenny just nodded, and Gibbs took her hand, squeezing it softly before looking at her. She looked better than she had the day they'd been for coffee, but she still looked scared, and he wasn't surprised. He'd been where she was, but she was lucky in the fact she had a baby who would be Mark's parting gift. He'd had nothing. "Jen, we'd miss you, but it wouldn't be forever. And if you don't go, then I'll be here to help. We all will be."

The red head just nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. Jethro wrapped an arm around her in a friendly manner. She felt safe in that moment, the scent of coffee and sawdust dulling the ache in her heart. Everything could be fine if she closed her eyes and forgot. But then she would see where she was, and everything would come crashing back down on her.

"You're a good man Jethro." She said, it was barely above a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear.

"And you are going to be an incredible mother Jennifer Shepard."


	30. A New Normal

**Disclaimer** _NCIS is not mine_

_**A New Normal**_

'_I've been needing you lately,  
>When the sun goes down,<br>I don't know where to find you.'  
>-Sam Palladio and Clare Bowen, Lately<em>

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><p>It was just under a week later when Jenny stepped back into NCIS. Marie and Ben were still staying with her, and they had agreed they would do so for the next three weeks before they returned home to Ireland. By then, Jenny had agreed that she would have an answer as to whether or not she would be joining them when the time came.<p>

Jenny stood in the metal box of the lift, trying ever so hard not to remember the last time that she had been in the building. The day that she had found out about Mark, the day that she had thrown her phone across the rooftop of headquarters and cried more tears than she ever knew she had inside of her. Her hair had been cut back into the style it had originally been styled in, and today she had straightened it. Attempting to make herself seem to the outside world as if nothing had happened. The red head was now ten weeks pregnant, and if you looked at her side on, then you might just be able to see the swell of her stomach. Part of her just wanted people to be able to know. So that was why she was at NCIS, to tell Tom Marrow that she would soon be returning to work and to tell Decker and Stan that she was pregnant. It was something she had debated over. After all, once they knew she would not be allowed to do anything what so ever. They would be even more protective of her.

But there was only so long she could wait until everyone would find out for themselves.

So she stepped out of the lift and walked across the catwalk to the Director's office. She knew that people were looking at her. News would have spread by now about the fact that her fiancé had died, and there was no doubt plenty of scuttlebutt going around which carried her name. But dressed in a floral sundress that floated loosely over her figure and chunky brown sandals, none of them would know that she was carrying a child.

"Is the director free?" Jenny asked his assistant, the younger woman nodded, and told her to go on through. Jenny smiled at the sight of an obviously tired and frustrated Tom Marrow sat behind his desk - which held about a hundred and one case files. But he smiled none the less when he saw her come in and take a seat opposite her. "Is this a bad time?" She questioned, nodding towards the cases.

"No, no I could do with getting my mind off of this lot for a while." He stated, and the red head just smirked. Tom Marrow was more dedicated to NCIS than any one of his employees; he'd worked his way up and managed to play politics perfectly. He could smooth over every one of Team Gibbs' incidents which to most other Directors would be catastrophic – yet he didn't even break out in a sweat. But when it came to paperwork, he despised it almost as much as Jethro did.

"SecNav?" Jenny questioned, referencing the one who commanded them all. The Secretary of the Navy expected NCIS to run like a military operation, which was hard to do when it was impossible to look into the future and plan how a case would go. The SecNav was about the only person Jenny knew who could get the Director to break out in a sweat – and that was saying something.

"The man thinks that if you give me twenty minutes I can make the world!" Jenny just laughed at his response. They both knew that it didn't matter who held the position of Secretary of the Navy or what their position had been prior to them holding it. The SecNav would always be a pain in the ass for the Director of NCIS. And that was period. But the current one seemed to be the worst imaginable. "Anyway, what can I do for you Jenny?"

"I want to come back to work. I'm sick of sitting around at home with Ben and Marie talking about the past. I need to live my life." The Director just nodded. He would never argue with her simply because it would be as pointless as arguing with Gibbs would be. The pair were more than just alike in their coffee sense. The bull headed nature that Mike Franks had worn, had been passed down onto Gibbs and then Jenny. Tom did not doubt the fact that whoever the lucky agent was that she trained would have just the same nature engraved into them by the time she was finished with them.

"As long as you are ready." Tom said, and she just nodded. Whether she was ready or not; she didn't honestly know. But she wasn't sure how you ever would find out, it wasn't like a letter arrived telling you that your time for grief was over and suddenly it didn't hurt anymore. Things didn't work like that. The only way she would find out if she truly was ready would be by getting back into work, pushing the pain to the back of her mind and doing what she loved whilst she planned what her future was going to be shaped like.

"Yeah, yeah I am. But there is something else that you need to know before I come back." She said, looking at the head of the agency that she had considered a friend ever since the European undercover op which seemed so long ago these days. Almost a lifetime ago.

"Please don't tell me that you're going to leave me in a month for the FBI?"

"The FBI? Really? If I was leaving I'd at least ruffle some feathers and leave for Army CID." She promptly replied with a small smirk. Tom rolled his eyes at the comment, silently pleased that the grief had not taken away her sense of humour. "I'm pregnant, ten weeks along."

She could see the smile on his face visibly growing, the way that his gaze softened and he softly nodded. There was a comfortable silence as he considered what he was about to say. Jenny leaving to have her child, and the maternity leave would be a loss for the agency, and especially Jethro's team. Decker was already leaving for LA soon, leaving them one man down, and if Jenny was away for a year then he would have to give the former marine a probie to train – a conversation he was already not looking forward to. But then he thought about the red head sat in front of him. If he was honest, he couldn't think of a better mother. Maybe she had never thought of herself as being the sort to have a family, but he knew that there were strong maternal instincts within her; the way that she was strict but caring at the same time. One only had to look at her when a case involved a child and one of the team had to look after them. The child would always love Jenny, in the same way that every adult he knew liked.

"Congratulations." He said. That was one word that the red head knew she would hear a lot over the next few months, but coming from her boss she knew that it was sincere, she knew that he only wanted the best for her, whether that be advancing her career by sending her on and undercover op, or accepting that he career was no longer the most important thing in her life. "When are you due?"

"December 23rd, god help me in the future – Christmas is going to be damn expensive!"

"Next time you're in my office you'll be asking for my job so you can afford it!" He joked, "I'm really happy for you Jenny."

"Thank you. So I'll see you Monday morning?"

"Yeah, you will, but you'll be confined to your desk soon! No arguments."

"Yes sir!" she mock saluted, before smiling warmly at him and leaving the office. By the time she reached the bull pen, team Gibbs were sat there arguing over the latest care. Correction; Stan and will were arguing whilst Gibbs just glared at the pair as though if he did so hard enough they would just disappear in a puff of smoke.

It took a while for any of them to notice her, stood on the halfway landing of the stairs watching them. It was Jethro who saw her first, he smiled, then there was a chorus of 'alright red!' and 'what's up Shep' as she made her way down stairs.

When she told them the news, both Stan and Decker were more than pleased for her. They instantly decided that they would be called Uncle Stan and Uncle Will, even if they weren't family by blood. The names already made Jenny smile, knowing that she didn't just have Mark's family there for her but her own too – even if they weren't blood.

Gibbs watched the interaction, confident that the red head in front of him would cope. He didn't honestly know whether she would go to Ireland or not, but it wasn't his choice to make for her. Of course he wanted her to stay, but he also knew that she wanted to be with Ben and Marie because they were a part of Mark. They almost helped her grieve – and hell she was doing a better job at that than he ever had.

If she went, then he would deal with it, keeping her desk clear for her whenever she wanted to return. But if she stayed then he would make sure she was home every night at a decent hour – as often as he could. He'd look after not only Jenny, but her child too, because that child was his family. It wasn't by blood, and in some ways that comforted him. He could love the child – his godchild – like he should, without feeling he was betraying Kelly or Shannon. He'd still look after them both in Ireland as much as he could.

Jenny stayed a while longer, giving input into the case, making the whole team head slap themselves because she was pointing things out that they hadn't seen. Gibbs was desperate to have her back by the time she left, realising how slow they had been wading through their pile of cases in a Sheppard-less team. But when she told him she would be back on Monday he was both dubious and relieved.

But he did the sensible thing and kept his mouth shut.

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><p>As it turned out being back at work was just what Jenny needed, and although everyone was treating her like an invalid, she was still out in the field as much as she could – even if it was just talking to the grieving families. Every time she sat with a grieving girlfriend, widow, and fiancé though, it was like someone had literally punched her in the stomach. All the pain that she had felt on that day hit her in one go. But it faded, and Jenny got on with the case. Determined to get both their victim and the loved ones the justice they deserved. A justice she would never get.<p>

The three weeks that Marie and Ben were staying with her for passed quickly. Jenny was at work most days, and they were glad to see that she had something to take her mind off of everything. Ben and Marie met the team she worked with, and both instantly took a liking to Ducky. They were relieved to see that she had people who cared about her. Jenny may never have made it to being their daughter-in-law, but they saw her in that sense never the less, and both cared a lot about her – not just because she was carrying their grandchild either.

The night before the couple boarded their flight to Dublin airport, Jenny sat in the darkened bull pen. It was a Sunday night and not many people were there, most had gone home for the evening. But she sat there, her desk light on as she stared into space. Stan and Will had both headed off home, Gibbs was in the director's office stopping off case files and she was just sat there. She was supposed to have been back half an hour ago to change before meeting Ben and Marie at a restaurant in the city centre for a meal. They had been to the ballet and would be at the table soon.

Still, Jenny didn't move. She'd had over three weeks to make her decision and yet she still hadn't. Part of her wanted to stay in DC, she wanted to stay because of Gibbs, because of Noemi and her work. But part of her also wanted to go to Ireland, to have a change to find who she was again, to raise her child in the countryside where they could run free without the fear of traffic. She wanted to be close to Marie and Ben because they were Mark's family.

"Thought you were off out?" Gibbs probed. Jenny shook her head out of the thoughts and looked up at him, standing over her desk; dressed in those perfect jeans, and that old USMC hoodie. The sight of him like that gave her a feeling of comfort, his soft voice that he very rarely used on anyone but her. Hey never had spoken anymore about what he said that night when he was drunk, and she doubted they ever would. But every now and again it would pop back into her head, only for her to hear Mark's voice asking her to marry him.

"Yeah I am, just thinking." She said, looking up and running a hand through her hair, the natural waves had occurred from the early call that morning telling her they had a case.

"You still not decided?" He questioned, as he went to sit behind his own desk, and pressed the standby button on his computer. His eyes looked over at the red head, her face furrowed in confusion. Lips red from biting them with worry. She looked gorgeous as always, and pregnancy was suiting her. Jenny wasn't the person who he had known as a probie though, nor was she the person who had returned home from the Moscow op bruised battered and bent. She was someone completely different, but he guessed that she would see him in the same manner too.

"No, I just, I don't know. You guys, you're my family, you know? And this city I my home – it is where I grew up!" She said, her voice cracking with emotion as she ran a hand down her face. "But Ireland is a fresh start and it isn't like it would be forever, but-"She cut herself off, sighing and turning to look at Gibbs.

"It's your choice Jenny."

"I almost wish someone would make it for me." She stated, laughing at her own words. She'd always hated being told what to do; she'd worked so hard to prove herself so no one told her what to do.

"You said it yourself; it wouldn't be forever, just a few months. Babies are hard Jen, hell Shannon asked her mum to come stay with her after two days!" The way he inserted Shannon into the conversation showed how he had changed. It was almost like no she had felt half his pain, he felt he could talk about it. Granted, he very rarely mentioned her name, and never when anyone else was around. But it made her feel like they had a new level in their relationship – she liked it.

"It wouldn't be. You think I should go?"

"I think you're scared that you're gonna lose this if you go. And you're desk will never be filled Jen." She looked down at her gingers, the engagement ring was still on, although she knew one of these days she would have to take it off. But not yet, it was too soon just yet. "You know what you want Jen, make your decision." He stood up, grabbed his coat and left after that.

Ten minutes later she did the same.

She knew what she had to do.


	31. Jennifer Shepard's Decision

**Disclaimer **_I don't own NCIS_

_note- I changed Shannon's surname pre-Gibbs_

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><p><em><strong>Jennifer Shepard's Decision<strong>_

'_She was my best friend,  
>And it broke my heart,<br>But I don't regret the day that she became,  
>One of those I've loved along the way.'<br>-Eric Church, Those I've Loved_

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><p>October, and it was a cold one. The ground was covered in a thick layer of frost every morning. The roads were constantly being gritted because of the black ice which had caused so many accidents. The trees were bare, the beautiful colours having fallen back late September. The skies were thunderous, and storms raged just as the wind did more nights than not. But October was fast becoming November and the pumpkins were already lining doorsteps, paper bats on windows and shops garishly decorated in the festive spirit. Children raced around in fancy dress even though the day was not yet upon them – their excitement unable to be contained.<p>

But for Jenny, the ending of October meant the ending of an era. She was seven months pregnant at this stage, and felt like the size of a house. She had decided not to know what she would have, and her list of names was ever growing. But it seemed that whether she was to have a little girl or a little boy, they would definitely be active if the rate at which they were kicking and doing somersaults was anything to go by.

It was evening outside in DC, and Gibbs was typically down in his basement sanding away at his boat. Constant changes in LA had meant that Will didn't leave until mid August, heading off for the sun and his own team. He had been excited, but at the same time a little disappointed, he'd been enjoying the torment Jenny's hormones played on her, and the repercussions they had on Stan who more often than not had some large, heavy, object thrown at him.

Gibbs had not escaped the wrath though, and had once or twice been found to be hiding down in autopsy with Ducky. As it turned out pregnancy had emphasised Jenny's dislike for the place, as they had discovered one day when she walked in and promptly ran out and empted her stomach. She had avoided the place ever since. Meaning Ducky had to make his journeys up to the bullpen more frequent.

Gibbs took a step back and admired his work. The boat was coming along well; he'd steamed the wood a couple of weeks ago and fitted it to the skeleton he had made. Now the whole outer shell was complete and he'd nearly finished sanding it. The next weekend they weren't working he planned on staining it for the first time.

The silence in the room was only interrupted by the whistling winds outside. He mentally hoped that all of his team were home and safe. The weather was not something he appreciated. Will was lucky to be in LA when the sun was apparently shining – as his constant post cards informed them all. Jenny was the only one who didn't look at him bitterly. The short burst of heat they had experienced in august had only made her even more agitated as her feet seamed to swell excessively.

Stan was already planning a holiday to join his friend in the sun.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of creaking floorboards. He looked up to the door in time to see Jenny walk in and began to make her way down. She had on a pair of jeans, a knitted jumper and a thick woollen coat meaning that her stomach was clearly visible as Gibbs looked at her from the side. Gibbs immediately moved to help her, and even though she was not happy about having to be helped, she appreciated his concern. The stairs were hard enough before she was pregnant and they were even worse now.

She smiled softly at him as she reached the bottom but he just glared at her. "I told you not to come down here!" He said, and it was true, the last time she had come down she had been four months pregnant and nearly fallen, since then he had banned her from his basement. But he knew it would not last forever. The silver haired agent poured himself a glass of bourbon and threw her a bottle of water from the mini fridge that Burly had forced him to install when they had had some drinks to celebrate Will's new job.

"Yeah well, I never did listen to you Jethro." She smirked, opening the bottle and taking a sip before moving to the old worn couch which sat in the corner. The smell of sawdust was familiar, and it made her relax after what had felt like a long day. Sitting there it felt like old times. Or it would if there wasn't a boxer kicking her from the inside. She moved her hand to her stomach and rubbed small soothing circles until junior calmed down.

Silence spread out for a while between them, neither knowing what to say. Tomorrow was the day that everything would change, tomorrow she would get on a plane to Ireland and she would be gone. Gibbs would be left alone with Stan, and she would have a fresh start. Tom Marrow had pulled god only knows how many strings to get her the job she would do. Instead of being on a team she work as liaison, it was perfect as she would be on calls most of the time instead of travelling, working on anti-terrorism with Mossad, Ireland, England, and any other country that they needed her to.

She would have to travel a little, but not a lot. The amount of time she was staying in Ireland for was still indefinite, but Tom told her that her position in DC was permanently safe. That was something she definitely appreciated. No matter what happened she wanted to return to her home city. Tomorrow was the day that she would have to say goodbye to the life she knew so well. The next time she was back she would not be alone; she'd have the son or daughter that she and Mark had made with her. Something she was more than a little excited about.

But for now, she just wanted one more night like all of those old ones they had shared. Nights when they didn't say much, but there was a mutual understanding. Tonight she just watched him, thinking of all those other times when he had stood there working on his boat and she had sat there watching him or occasionally helping. "You all packed?" He questioned, placing the sander down and looking at the red head.

She just nodded. "Yeah, Ducky is taking me to the airport."

"I'd have taken ya Jen." She just looked at him. Truth be told she had thought about asking him, but she knew that if he took her, then she wouldn't leave as dry eyed as she would if Ducky took her. She would cry – she cried at everything at the moment. But if Jethro took her, she wasn't sure that she would actually end up going. She'd back out. But she knew she had to go, it was the right thing for her, but more than that it was the right thing for her child.

"I know." She replied, a sad smile forming on her lips as her emerald orbs moved up to catch his. Gibbs just nodded, knowing it was her decision. He moved to a new section of the boat and started sanding it down meticulously – following the grain just as he had always taught her. "Your god child is not working on that boat until they are at least ten." Jenny declared, watching the silver haired agent work. He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. She knew that as soon as her child was left alone with Gibbs they would have a sander in their hand.

"You're the boss." He replied, knowing that he would never keep to that rule. He'd told himself that no matter what he would respect any decision that Jenny made when I came to raising her child, after all it wasn't his. But there could be some exceptions. Working on the boat would most definitely be one of them. Looking at her sat there, he wondered how things would plan out when it came to the pair of them, whether having an ocean between them would tear apart the fragile relationship that they had been gradually repairing. He hoped that whenever it was that she would return, they would go back to being like this. That they would be able to have a relaxed friendship – but there was no guarantee.

"How did you choose Kelly's name?" Jenny asked, she had been wondering a lot about that lately. Wondering but scared to broach the subject, knowing that it was a sore sport for Gibbs. She watched him closely. His movements faltered a little but he continued, as he thought about the question.

"Shannon chose." He stated simply, before looking over and deciding to elaborate. "It was after her maiden name, she was an only child; name was practically going to die out so she decided to give it to Kel." Jenny nodded, thinking about her surname.

"Guess Shepard wouldn't really have the same effect." Gibbs smirked, shaking his head. "Maybe if the little one is a boy I'll name them Shepard Leroy."

"Really Jen? You want your kid to get bullied?" Jenny smirked at the look of disgust on Jethro's face.

"What about Tobias for a boy and Diane for a girl?" The red head questioned, laughing as the look of disgust on her partners face turned into a look of complete horror.

"Get out." The woman just laughed even harder, leaning back on the sofa until her head touched the wall behind her.

"I'm joking! I swear!" She confessed, raising her hands up in defeat. Gibbs just shook his head, despite the fact she was picking on him he was pleased to see her laughing. It felt like way too long since that sound had graced his ears. "If you don't like my suggestions then why none give me some of your own." She stated.

"Stan." Gibbs stated seriously.

"You want me to make his ego even bigger?"

"Good point." Gibbs stated, as he went back to work. For the rest of the evening they threw names across at each other, every now and again bursting into fits of laughter as one of them made reference to someone they knew. It was nearly midnight when Gibbs cast an eye over at Jenny who had been strangely quiet for the last twenty minutes. That was when he saw her eyes had closed and her head had fallen backwards. He smiled at the look of content that had made residence on her face. She looked so peaceful, but the position would only cause he more aches and pains when then morning came. So he walked over, and carefully woke her.

"Come on, you can sleep in my room." He whispered, before escorting her up the rickety basement stairs and up to the master bedroom her rarely even used. She didn't even bother to change; she simply placed her head on the pillow and zonked out again. Gibbs leant forward and pulled the covers up over her, before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Night Jenny." He whispered before walking out of the door and pulling it to. They might be just friends, but he still cared an awful lot about the woman who was sleeping in his bed.

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><p>The next morning Jenny returned to her house, changed and set about packing her hand luggage ready for the trip she was about to take. She'd told Ducky that she would take a taxi to NCIS and meet him there, so she could say goodbye to everyone without dragging them to the airport. Part of her also wanted to say goodbye to the place which had been more like a home that the townhouse for the past however many years.<p>

Jenny stood in the hallway, her suitcases stood at the bottom of the stairs and she looked around. She didn't need furniture or anything so the house looked no different than it did when she left it every morning. She was literally taking clothes, makeup, jewellery and a few pictures to make the annex feel a little more like home. But standing there, memories flooded over her. The times she had run through these rooms as a child, the sound of a family filling the ancient house. Nights when her father would sit in his study, drinking whiskey and reading his files. The team coming over for holidays and celebrations. Noemi; the woman who had been like a mother to Jenny for so long. Memories of Mark and her, just the simple, small moments that meant so much. It had seen so many pivotal moments in her life. And now the most pivotal would take place in Ireland.

The sound of a car horn beeping outside told her that her taxi had arrived. The red head took one last looka round the house. All the lights were turned out, everything was unplugged. This really was goodbye for now. She picked up the shoulder bag and unlocked the door, before grabbing the first suitcase and attempting to pull it out the door. The sight of a pregnant woman with a massive suitcase was enough to get the taxi driver out of the car. He pulled the first one and then the second suitcase down to the car whilst she locked the front door for the last time.

By the time she reached NCIS, the whole situation still felt surreal. Jenny paid her fee, and the driver unloaded the suitcases before driving away and leaving the Navy Yard. Jenny was helped into headquarters by a young man in uniform whom Jenny realised she was old enough to practically be the mother of. The cases were left in a locked room whilst she made her way up to the bullpen. The whole journey took place while Junior jumped around. That sensation mixed with the butterflies in her stomach was almost dizzying. She reached the floor below the bullpen, and a few agents got on. They nodded, everyone knew that today she would leave – whether they knew her or not.

Orange walls, dividers, desks, the skylight, she all of it every day and yet today it all looked so different. Slowly she made her way over to the MCRT division. Inside it stood Ducky, Stan, Gibbs, Tom Marrow and the forensic scientist Abby who had started not that long ago. The woman was hyper, and although Jenny didn't know her all too well she seemed like she loved her job.

Abby hugged her first, she was a hugger. Jenny struggled to breath, but said nothing. Abby gave some rambling speech, of which Jenny understood about half. "Look after Jethro for me." Jenny whispered in Abby's ear, knowing that the young Goth had a soft spot for the special agent. Abby just nodded, before returning to her lab, not wanting to cry because Jenny had told her that it would make her cry.

"Good luck Jenny, we'll see you soon. I'll call you in a few days and tell you what I want you working on." Tom Marrow said, Jenny nodded and smiled. "Take care of yourself, and more than that, relish every moment." Jenny just smiled and nodded, she was only saying goodbye to her boss and she was already filling up.

"I'm a wreck!" Jenny laughed, and her boss gave her a quick hug before running up to MTAC ready for a meeting with the SecNav who apparently was on the line, waiting and complaining about the agency head's ability to keep time.

"So, you're _actually _leaving me with Gibbs? Alone!" Stan said, looking terrified as he looked at the silver haired agent out of the corner of his eye. Gibbs, as if on cue, gave the younger agent a head slap. The whole scene had Jenny and Ducky laughing. Stan just rubbed his head. "Please don't go Jenny! You tame him, without you he's gonna run wild!"

"Yeah, well she's leaving me with you, _I _drew the short straw!" Gibbs mumbled as he went to sit behind his desk. The old injury on his knee hurting.

"Share some wisdom Red; how do you tame him?" Stan asked, placing his hands together as if he was praying. Jenny just laughed, signalling for him to come closer.

"He just doesn't like you." She said, so that it sounded like a whisper but everyone else could hear. Stan looked hurt, Ducky chuckled and Gibbs laughed. Jenny smiled.

"That hurt Red!"

"Awh, sorry Burley. _I _like you." She stated, smirking.

"I knew there was a reason I'll miss ya." He said, before giving her a hug.

"Have his six." She whispered, and she felt Stan nod.

"Always do Jenny, always do."

Stan sat down at his desk, and Ducky started a conversation in order to give the two partners a moment. Gibbs sat there for a second, taking in the way she looked. Hair loose and wavy, wearing a green wrap dress, boots, and a jacket. She looked amazing, and he knew he would always have feelings for her. But to say anything now would be as wrong as it had been to say them the night he had been drunk. This time he would keep his mouth shut though.

He stood up, wincing at his knee before walking over to her. She smiled sadly. This was the goodbye she had been dreading. The man who had been there for her through everything, whether she knew it or not, whether she wanted it or not. He had been there. "You gonna be okay?" He asked, referring to nothing and everything at once.

"Yeah, I'm a big girl Jethro." She said, smiling sadly. "Ben and Marie are there, and you are only a phone call away." Inside, junior began to kick, and she took Jethro's hand, placing it on her stomach. Up until then she hadn't let anyone else feel the kicks, but in that moment it felt right. Gibbs smiled brightly, he'd only felt Kelly kick once. "Take care Jethro."

Gibbs moved his hand when the sensation stopped. He shook his head at her concern. "I mean it, I don't want to hear that you've got another hole in you!" She stated, and he laughed.

"I'll be careful. You too." Jenny nodded, and she cast her eyes down.

"I'll see you later Jethro." Goodbye was too much for Jenny to say, it was too final, too definite. So she'd see him later, whenever later may well be.

"See ya later Jen." Gibbs said, giving her a hug. Jenny buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, and let a few tears role down her cheek. For the last time she breathed in the scent of coffee, sawdust and his aftershave. Committing it to memory. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled away, forcing herself to smile.

Jenny and Ducky left after that, never saying another word, until they were in the car. Small talk passed between them, meaningless things. "I won't let him do anything stupid, Jennifer." Ducky said, and she turned and looked at him. She knew that he was talking about Gibbs, and she appreciated it. No matter how many people she asked to look out for him, it was never enough. Jethro had a wild streak that sometimes needed to be tamed. He needed to be brought down to earth. And without her there, Ducky was the only one who had a hope of managing.

"Thank you Ducky."

By the time that Jenny said goodbye to Ducky, and had walked though security, she was surprised that she had shed so few tears. But on the flight that followed that would all change. Because, as she looked down from the plane as it took off, at the bustling streets of the city, she began to wonder just what she planned on doing next.

She was going to Ireland for a fresh start, but did she really want one? Or did she just want her old life back?

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><p><em>This is the end of Those I've Loved, thank you for all who have reviewed, and supported it!<em>

_Please keep an eye out for the sequel, 'who i am today' which should be posted within the next week. _

_-abs x_


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